


too heavy a weight (to carry on my own)

by pxrkxrhollands



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Death, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Harry is a Good Friend, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulative Quentin Beck, Mentioned Skip Westcott, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Minor Happy Hogan/May Parker (Spider-Man), Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker is a Mess, Protective Harley Keener, Slow Burn, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trauma, Whump, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxrkxrhollands/pseuds/pxrkxrhollands
Summary: "You should've told me.""Why, Parker? To tell me all about how I don't deserve to complain? I'm just the jerk that picked on you.""No. So I could've told you I understand. And I want to listen to you."*****In which Peter Parker and Harley Keener get kidnapped by Mysterio. Secrets are exposed, and the two rivals will have to fix the damage caused by it together or fall apart conpletely.
Relationships: Happy Hogan/May Parker (Spider-Man), Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 94
Kudos: 416





	1. Chapter 1

Peter Parker was pissed.

There was no other way to describe how he felt after the exhaustingly frustrating day he had just had. It started in AP chem, when Flash Thompson "accidentally" spilled sulfur oxide all over the essay he was desperately trying to finish before English class at noon. To make matters worse, his lab partner couldn't come to school so he was stuck doing a group project on his own.

"Seriously, Flash?" He had muttered indignantly, with only a cocky, arrogant laugh from the dick himself in reply.

He spent his lunch period in detention for his missing essay.

Calculus was a breeze, especially considering how the wind chill from the open window he sat right next to nearly froze him to death within the first half hour. 

All things aside, Peter was downright irritated by the time he walked through the doors of STARK Industries and sat down on his lab chair with a melancholy huff.

"You're in my chair."

Whipping around in surprise, Peter came face to face with another boy. He looked about 17 or 18-ish, his brown hair in an orderly, gelled wave on his head and his brown eyes boring holes into the smaller boy's head.

"Sorry? This is my chair."

"I was there first."

"Who do you think-"

"Hey, Pete! I see you've met Harley."

With his usual flourish, Mr. Stark walked into the room, waving his hand towards the tall boy. "He's staying at the tower for a while for a research exposition."

Peter flashed the kid a glance again, not at all enjoying the way his cheeks slightly tingled with heat when he looked at him.

"That's great, Mr. Stark. Are we working more on our project today?"

The "project" in question was a new and improved web shooter design.

"Sorry, kid. I'm a bit preoccupied trying to figure out a few things with Harley today. We'll pick it up tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Oh. O- okay."

"That reminds me, I forgot the blueprints. You kids get along till I get back."

Within seconds, Harley had returned to his stance towering above Peter, glaring at him.

"Can I have my chair back now?"

"Why don't you just pick a different chair?"

"And why don't you understand that I'm the one who's actually working here?"

"Doesn't look like it."

"Stop acting like a child. God."

"I'm acting like a child?! Says Mr. High-and-Mighty who just walked in here and expected me to be pushed around by him."

Harley stuck his face closer to Peter's bending down. He pushed against Peter's torso and the boy crashed to the floor with a solid thud.

"Ow!" He cried out, indignant and even further pissed. "What the hell was that for?"

"Can't be pushed around, hm?"

"Got the prints. Pete, why are you on the floor?"

Harley eyed Peter, practically daring him to snitch.

"No- no reason, sir, I just dropped something."

Tony nodded, unquestioning.

"Alright, well, I'm gonna work on this for a bit with Harley. If you want, you can stay and do your homework, yeah?" Seeing Peter's crestfallen face, he pointed at the clock. "When that clock hits 6 PM, you tell me and we'll go out for some ice cream or something."

At that, Peter's cheeks turned a slight pink color and Harley couldn't hide the small snicker that came out of his mouth.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark," he mumbled, turning to drag his backpack to the small corner of the lab, which he almost felt was like being put in a time-out.

Needless to say, Peter Parker's mood had not improved.

***

6 PM had come and passed and Peter, not wanting to irritate his mentor, watched the clock hands tick as Tony stayed immersed in his work with Harley, both their heads leaning over the welding tool and talking in hushed tones.

By the time the clock hit 7, the kid was already out the door, ready to take the first train home and wanting nothing more than for the crappy, stupid day he had to be over, and to hopefully get the image of Harley, with his perfect dimples and perfect hair and stupid, perfect eyes out of his mind.

Pulling out his phone, he texted the one person he knew for a fact could help him with that.

Peter: SOS. Code blue!!

Within five minutes, he got his answer.

H: meet me at Beachwood in 20.

Upon arriving at the tiny, empty cafe on the corner of Queens Blvd and 4th street, Peter was able to look in the front window and clearly his friend, scrolling through his phone with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa beside him.

"God, you're a lifesaver, Harry, you know that?"

"I know, Pete. Trust me, I know."

Peter grinned, taking the cocoa gratefully and plopping down in his chair with a tired sigh.

"Rough day, huh?"

"What made you think that, genius?"

Harry smiled comfortingly.

"Haven't had a code blue since Flash poured spaghetti on your lap and you cried because those were your favorite pants."

"They were, okay? Lay off."

The dark-haired boy laughed, leaning back in his chair.

"And anyways, I'd say this day was a lot worse."

"Oh yeah? What gives?"

"Mr. Stark has some fancy pants kid working on a project with him. The guy's a complete dickwad, Harry!"

"You sure you aren't just a bit jealous?"

"Well… I might be… but it has nothing to do with him being a jerk!"

"How long is he staying?"

"Dunno. As long as his 'research exposition', whatever that is, needs him to stay."

"Well, you know you can always come work at the academy after-hours. My lab is always open."

Peter shook his head.

"Thanks, H, but you know your dad wouldn't like that. I don't think he likes me much as it is."

"Nah, he's just a bit prickly in general."

Peter turned his head to the TV, where the evening news report was on mute.

"Hey, did you hear about the new movie coming out soon…" Harry was still talking, but Peter had stopped listening, his eyes widening at the news headline.

"MYSTERIOUS COSTUMED CHARACTER INVOLVED IN STARK INDUSTRIES ROBBERY IDENTITY UNKNOWN"

"Did you know that happened?" Peter nodded to the TV and Harry looked up, turning his head slightly to watch in confusion.

"No… must've just gone down."

Sure enough, his phone dinged.

Mr. Stark: hey kid, swing by the tower tomorrow before school. We have to talk.

Peter's face paled a little at the thought of some strange person having access to Tony Stark's personal files, including the files on, well, Peter, and the fact that he was Spiderman.

"Uh, hey, I think I'm gonna go. I have a crap ton of homework to do still. Thanks for the pick-me-up."

Harry, a little disappointed but understanding, gave him a small salute.

"Anytime, Pete. Call me if you need anything."

"Will do."

Peter put his jacket on and walked out into the brisk New York air, now on a new mission, most of the events of that day already forgotten with the new concern facing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Will try to update soon x


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What do you care, shrimpy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait a bit before posting this but I already had it written so I thought why not. I'm gonna try and post 2 times a week! Let me know what you guys are thinking! :)
> 
> The next chapter will probably be up on Tuesday at the latest

"But, Mr. Stark, I thought you said nothing could get to your secured files-"

"I know what I said, kid. Obviously, I was wrong. As hard as that is to say."

Peter pursed his lips, pacing the floor of the lab.

"But it's okay, right? You have it under control… right? What other files were stolen?"

Tony ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Kid, I'm doing my best here, I swear. This has never happened before. Someone was able to get in and compromise FRIDAY. And I know for a fact that the only be people who would be able to do that is someone who works for me. Nobody,  _ nobody  _ gets past FRIDAY." He placed the back of his hand against his forehead. "Most of the data taken was oddly random. Information about old tech I worked on, classified lab locations… data about you."

Happy, Tony's head of security, walked into the room, holding a cell phone to his ear.

"Boss, the DoD is on the line. They wanna know what the hell is going on."

"Give me a minute, Hap. I'm with the kid."

Happy groaned.

"Don't know how much longer I can hold them off," he muttered, sending a nod Peter's way and leaving the room.

"I think it would be best if you stayed in the tower for a while so I can keep an eye on you."

Peter winced.

"Mr. Stark, you don't have to do that…"

Tony waved his hand.

"Nonsense. May will probably be safer without you there, because obviously I'm smarter than to put any ties you have with anyone in a file. The only person you have a connection with, according to the database, is me."

"But you said FRIDAY was compromised."

"Not anymore. The virus disappeared almost as soon as it popped up. Bruce and I are working overtime right now to upgrade her security measures. Besides, here you and I have the protection of other Avengers and highly trained personnel."

Peter scratched his chin, thinking.

"I guess I still have my bedroom on the fourth floor."

Tony pressed his hands together.

"Yeah, um, about that… I'm sort of letting Harley use your room since it's the only empty one that's fully furnished and you don't normally stay over anymore as it is."

Internally, Peter wanted to scream into the abyss, but he kept his cool.

"Oh- uh- I, uh-"

"I'm sorry, Pete. I definitely should've told you that or asked you before. There's just been a lot on my mind lately. I want to find this guy as quickly as possible so we can fix the situation."

Peter shook his head, not wanting his mentor to think he was angry at him.

"No, I get it. It's, uh… yeah it's fine."

Tony gave him a small smile.

"Thanks, kid. He's only gonna be here for another week, but u think if you got to know him, you guys would get along a whole lot better. He's an amazing kid."

_ One week. One week, Peter. _

"Yeah, I can manage that."

And so Peter called his aunt, explaining the situation and despite her irritation and concern for him, she told him he could stay at the tower until the whole situation simmered down.

"I'll be back soon, May. I'm really sorry, I just don't want you to be in trouble because of me, you know?"

"I know," May sighed. "Call me every day, got it? I need to know you're safe. And you better stay caught up in school, Peter!"

Peter rubbed his forehead. The thought of school had slipped his mind. He would have to make up some excuse for his absence.

"I will, I promise. Love you, May," he said goodbye and hung up, taking a deep breath.

"Thanks for this, Mr. Stark."

He patted Peter's shoulder, his eyes a mixture of worry and reassurance.

"Of course, kid. Harley should be up there. Go get settled in."

Before Peter could leave, he stopped, turning around as a thought crossed his mind.

"Wait. Mr. Stark, does Harley know I'm Spiderman?"

Tony crossed his arms.

"I didn't think you would want me to tell him."

"No. I- I don't. Thanks again, Mr. Stark."

He left Tony standing at his table, staring at the wall as he tried to figure out what to do next.

Peter walked up the stairs to his bedroom. Even from the hallway, he could hear country music blasting at an astronomical volume, and it was already beginning to hurt his ear. By the time he managed to open the door, he thought he might pass out because of it. Despite his heightened senses, he knew this music was loud enough to give a normal person a headache.

" _ Can you turn it down?! _ " He shouted, pressing his hands against his ears and squeezing his eyes shut. Harley was sitting at his desk (correction:  _ Peter's  _ desk) humming along to the beat.

"Harley!!"

"What do you want, Peter?" Harley turned off the music for a moment and Peter breathed an audible sigh of relief as the ringing in his ears faded.

"Can you please not play your music that loud? It's really hurting my ears."

Harley rolled his eyes.

"Then leave."

"Well, this is  _ my  _ room. And I am staying here, so…"

"Get your own room."

"Are you kidding me? You're such a  _ dick. _ "

Harley stood up, walking closer to Peter. Despite how intimidated he was by the taller boy, the tingle in Peter's chest was refusing to go away.

"Don't call me a dick."

"Then don't be one."

Harley pushed Peter, gently but forcefully enough that the smaller boy stumbled backwards in shock. Then he walked back over to the desk and turned the music back up to full volume. Peter, once again in excruciating pain, ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, curling into a ball and putting his hands over his tears, tears threatening to spill down his face. He bit his pinky finger, shutting his eyes, and waited.

***

By the time the music had finally stopped, Peter was a mess on the floor, having thrown up twice since it had started. The pain in his head made him dizzy, and he blinked a few times in an attempt to clear his vision. Standing up, he groped for the door handle and opened it to see what had happened.

Harley was laying full-spread in  _ Peter's  _ bed, his shirt off, his smooth, defined abs exposed. Harley had relatively tanned skin, and a small tattoo of a bear was drawn on his left hip. He was nonchalantly scrolling through his phone, either unaware of or uncaring of Peter's ordeal. (It was most likely the latter.) 

Groaning, Peter moved to sit down at his desk. The chair, of course, was covered in the taller boy's dirty laundry. Peter closed his eyes, willing himself not to scream or cry or even punch a hole in the wall because of his frustration. He gingerly lifted the clothing, dumping it on the floor to Harley's indifference.

"So, uh, Harley, where are you from?"

Yes, Peter Parker was attempting to make conversation with a boy who forced him to lock himself in a room for an hour, trying to block out the terrible sound of intolerably loud country music. Did it have something to do with the way Harley looked right now, splayed out on Peter's bed half-naked? Of course not!

"What do you care, shrimpy?"

Peter grimaced, opening his mouth to exhale slowly. He should've seen that one coming.

"I'm trying to be the nice one here, actually. In case you didn't notice."

"Well, stop."

"By the way, there's an air mattress in the closet-"

"Good." Harley cut in. "Otherwise you'd be sleeping on the floor, I guess."

"No, I- I meant-" he trailed off, knowing it was better to deal with it than start another argument with Harley. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

Harley smirked, victorious again.

_ One week, Peter. One week. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Or what? You'll pummel me with your tiny fists? Get a grip."

Four days had passed since Harley arrived, and Peter was learning how to avoid him. When he would walk into the kitchen for breakfast, Peter would excuse himself, skipping his morning meal to stay as far away from the rude boy as possible. His days had consisted of shutting himself in his section of the lab and ignoring everyone else, sometimes including Tony. Unfortunately, his technique didn't seem to work very long.

"Hey, shrimpy." Harley walked into the lab on Tuesday morning. Almost automatically, Peter hunched closer to his work, tapping his pen against the table anxiously.

"Not gonna say hi back, darlin'?" Harley drawled. Today he was definitely in a bad mood, his southern accent poking through more than usual.

"Shut up Harley, I'm trying to work."

"Wanted to ask you somethin', Pete."

"Don't call me that."

"What are these? They look old."

Peter turned in his chair to see Harley holding a pair of scratched, wire-framed square glasses. He tensed up immediately, watching the taller boy play with them.

"Where did you find those?!"

Harley shrugged. "Been lookin' through your shit. Got a lot of random junk. But these… these were kinda cool, if I'm being honest. Never seen you wear glasses, Parker."

Peter winced at Harley's use of his last name. The way he emphasized the "p" sound irritated him to his core for some reason, and he found himself momentarily consumed by annoyance.

"Give them back,  _ Keener, _ " he snapped back, a little more harshly than he had intended.

Harley smiled. "Or what? You'll pummel me with your tiny fists? Get a grip."

Peter clenched his fist, knowing he could slam Harley into next century if he wanted to. And boy, did he want to.

"Give them back," he repeated, stepping closer to Harley. The taller boy, however, was unfazed.

"Who's are they? Your dad's?"

"Y- yes."

"Oh." Harley shook his head, a little bit confused but nevertheless relentless. "Well, don't you think he'd want them back?" He held them up threateningly, and Peter knew he was thinking about dropping them.

"Harley, please don't-" he pleaded, but Harley looked angry now, clenching his fingers around the glasses.

"You think you can just strut up in here and become best buddies with Tony Stark out of nowhere, huh? You're treated like a no-good, spoiled child all the damn time and whenever you get sad, it's all "oh, let's go get ice cream, Peter" or "aw, lemme kiss your boo-boo, Peter, you poor little thing". And all you can do is  _ whine  _ about how my music is too loud and try to top me in everything, because you think you're so much  _ better  _ than me."

Peter stood in front of Harley in absolute shock, unsure of what to say until he saw the boy dangle the glasses between two of his fingers.

"Harley, I'm sorry! I know I don't deserve that kind of treatment from everyone and I don't think I'm better than you! All you've done since you got here was be a complete asshole and I just want you to give me a minute of peace! Why do you feel such a need to pick on me all the time?!"

"You're an easy target," he answers almost automatically. "And it helps pass the time."

"Just give me the glasses, Harley. Give me the glasses and you can say whatever the hell you want to say to me. Punch me, push me, whatever, I don't care. Just  _ give me the glasses _ ."

The taller boy seemed to consider it for a moment.

"Tell me why you want them so bad."

"They're my dad's. They're the only piece of him I have left."

Harley seemed to pause in his tracks, his cold expression slacking.

" _ Please _ , Harley."

Almost as if it had never happened, Harley regained his composure and tossed the glasses to Peter, who caught them easily, his hands trembling.

"Stay out of my way, Peter." Harley muttered, before turning on his heel and walking out of the lab.

Peter didn't know it yet, but he hadn't seen the worst of Harley Keener.

***

Later that night, the boys were lying in Peter's bedroom, the night slowly passing as they shifted in their beds constantly, both plagued by insomnia (Peter had learned Harley struggled with sleeping after he went to the kitchen at 3 am one night and found the boy laying on the counter with a granola bar in his hand, earbuds in). When Peter looked up at the bed, he could see the glow of Harley's cell phone. He cleared his throat quietly.

"Where are you from?" He asked, breaking the silence of the bedroom.

To his surprise, Harley gave him a one word answer.

"Tennessee."

"Got any siblings?"

"One."

"Parents?"

"Shut up and go to sleep, Parker."

"I can't sleep. Neither can you. How old are you?"

"Godammit, Peter, shut up."

Peter did.

A few minutes later, there was a crash outside the door.

"Peter, I swear to god-"

"Wasn't me!" But his spider sense was tingling, creeping up his arms and sending goosebumps spreading across the back of his neck. He reached into his backpack, pulling on his webshooters quietly and using the sleeves of his sweatshirt to hide them. Carefully, he stood up, moving towards the door with Harley close behind.

"Was probably Tony or somethin', Harley mumbled, but his voice was laced with doubt. "Wait."

Peter stopped, his hands just inches from the doorknob, while Harley ran over to the little closet, pulling a pocket knife out of his suitcase.

"It's probably just a security guard," he hissed through his teeth, but Harley looked determined and Peter's sixth sense was beginning to go off the rails, so he knew it wasn't security.

"Maybe you shouldn't open it," Harley whispered back, their loathing of each other forgotten in their unanimous nervousness. So Peter stepped away from the door, and they waited.

Suddenly, another crash was heard, this one much louder, coming from the window on the opposite side of the room. The boys whipped their heads around, inching forward.

One section of the window had been entirely blasted out, shards of glass and steel reinforcements lying on the ground, reflecting the moonlight and creating wavy shadows on the wall.

"Okay. Shit. I don't like this." Harley stepped back.

"Just… just stay calm. I'll figure this out." Peter was more than disoriented. His sense was telling him there was danger, but the danger seemed to be… everywhere.

"FRIDAY?" He called to the AI.

No answer.

He blinked, and right as he did, the room turned black. He whipped around, but he couldn't see a single thing, not even the glass on the floor in front of him.

"H-hello?" Harley's voice called out. "This is one bullshit prank, Parker."

"I swear none of this is me."

A click of a canister opening, followed by the sound of rushing air. Peter barely had time to shout "Don't breathe!" Before he heard a loud  _ thud  _ which could only have been Harley dropping to the floor, unconscious. He continued to spin around, keeping his eyes closed as he felt around for a wall. The gas wasn't taking its real effect on him, but it was certainly adding a droopiness to his eyes and a heaviness to his limbs. There were two more pops and cans rolled towards him, the air making his eyes water.

_ Kick it away, _ his brain was shouting at him, but Peter could hardly move his arms now. He webbed up one of the canisters as quickly as he could, but by then it was too late, and the overdose brought him to his knees, the world swaying in front of him.

"He's still awake," someone muttered in front of him. Peter reached out, crawling to find the exit, but his efforts were futile. "Be patient," was the last thing he heard before he collapsed, the blackness of the room closing in on him completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok i think ill try to post Mondays and Wednesdays, and Fridays if possible (but not this Friday cuz its christmas)
> 
> Hope u are liking the story so far! x


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let me out!"

When Peter woke up, the first thing he saw was white.

A stark contrast to the darkness before, he squinted as the light washed over him, making his head pound. He was surrounded by four white walls, and the ceiling appeared to be nowhere in sight. Standing up, he realized he was alone.

"Harley?" He called tentatively, looking around. There was no door. "Hello?"

His sense was still making the back of his neck itch, and he knew he was in danger here. He just couldn't figure out why it was coming from all directions at once. Staring up into the black void above him, he decided there was only one way he could find out. He lifted himself up onto the wall, sticking to it vertically, and began to climb.

Harley, on the other hand, was having a much better day. He was sitting at a table, eating dinner with his mother and little sister.

"I got the job," his mom said, smiling happily. His sister, Abby, clapped her hands happily, laughing brightly.

"Yay!"

Harley smiled, content. For the first time in a while, their plates and bellies were full, and so were their hearts.

"Proud of you, mom," he said, shooting her a smile. "You worked hard for it."

"Thanks, Harls. Things are going to get better from here." She reached across the table to grab his hand, rubbing his thumb gently. "You know, your dad would be so proud of the kid you've become if he came back-"

The image shuttered. Harley looked around, confused.

"Mom?" He questioned, but his mother was still smiling at him warmly.

"Thanks, Harls." She said again. Harley tilted his head, confused. "Things are going to get better from here. You know, your dad wouldn't be so proud of the kid you've-" 

A flicker.

"M-mom?" Harley leaned forward to touch his mom's hand, but, instead of feeling her skin his hand went straight down, passing through nothing but air. He drew his hand back, fearful.

"What the hell…"

The image reset again, and his mom reappeared, solid.

"Thanks, Harls." She repeated it in the same warm, even tone as before, but Harley stepped away. "Things are going to get better…"

She kept talking, but Harley wasn't listening. His sister sat at the table beside him, silent, her eyes warm but strangely empty. Suddenly, everything disappeared, and he was left in blackness.

"What the hell is going on?!" Harley stepped back, stumbling over his own feet and falling, his back landing painfully on the floor as he scrambled backwards. "What- who the hell- stop messin' with me and come out, you ugly bastard!"

His hands moved along the floor as he dragged himself backwards, trying to push himself up. His feet hit a solid bump and he snaked his hand up it, realizing when he hit soft fabric it was a person's shoe. The person leaned down to Harley's level, and the boy felt a hot, uncomfortable breath in his ear. When he turned his head, however, he still couldn't see a thing.

"Hello, Harley," a voice spoke, cold and masculine, and he could tell it was very close to his face. He reached out, but to no avail.

"Get the hell out of my face," he snarled to the nothingness.

"So nice to finally meet you."

"Yeah, well the favor's not returned."

The man laughed.

"Let's go start the show, shall we?"

Something was lifting Harley up, something he still couldn't see, and he beat and thrashed at the air, kicking and punching, but he managed to hit  _ nothing _ . Despite this, he refused to give up, trying to roll out the grip of whatever bat-shit magic was making him float upwards. When he finally stopped moving, he could finally see something. But it wasn't what he expected.

Peter Parker, real or not, was running towards an old man standing alone on the center of a platform. A gunshot, and the man collapsed.

Peter fell to his knees, screaming.

***

Over and over again. Peter  _ knew  _ it wasn't real, deep down he really did, but it  _ felt  _ so real. Just as he ran towards Ben's body, lying in the middle of the street, the image reset.

"Let me out!" He screamed, over and over and over again until his throat burned raw. "Let me the hell out!"

But here it was, all over again. Ben, the look of fear clearly marked on his face as he stood in front of the line of people, blocking the mugger's way. All over again, almost as if it was in slow motion, Peter ran towards him, but he was just a second too late. He fell to his knees as he watched Ben fall, too, the tears paving a river down his face because he  _ couldn't make it stop _ and it hurt more than anything he could imagine.

When he finally stopped screaming, he turned around, standing up, anticipating the rerun of the nightmare. But when he let his eyes look forward, he only saw one thing.

Harley Keener, sitting at a small, rickety table, watching him, his expression unreadable.

"Harley?!"

"Peter-" Harley was obviously struggling, as if he were stuck sitting in the chair. His eyes drew circles around the room, searching for an escape, but they were trapped. Peter walked over to him hesitantly.

"Peter, what the hell is going on?" Harley continued his struggle and Peter, confused, wondered what was making it so he couldn't simply stand up.

"I- I don't know-" Peter didn't even realize how bad he was trembling, but he clasped his hands together, as if he could somehow squeeze them tightly enough and wake up from the nightmare. 

Harley shook his head. "This is crazy shit. Maybe we accidentally ate some edibles or somethin'."

Peter shook his head.

"This… this is real."

"How do you know, smart guy?"

"It just… feels real."

"That's what someone who's off-his-ass high would say, idiot."

"Shut up, okay? Just shut up!" Peter covered his ears, groaning. The shock of his previous experience had still not worn off completely. He sat down in the chair across from Harley, groaning. (Both boys were too incapacitated to realize the chair had not been there before).

"What was that, anyway?" Harley gestured to what had been the scene of death, where there now just blank space.

"It was- it was nothing."

"You do know what that was, though. You better be not be lying to me right now, Parker. I'm on my last thread-"

"Shut the hell up, Harley!" Peter was still groaning in pain, his hands on both sides of his head. "Shit… just be quiet."

"Why should I be quiet when your dumbass probably got us here in the first place?!"

"You are not putting this all on me right now. I tried to save you, farmboy."

Harley slammed his hand down on the table.

"Don't call me farmboy."

"Don't call me shrimpy."

"I hate you!"

"I hate you more!"

"Boys!"

The voice came out of nowhere, nearly scaring the piss out of both the arguing kids.

"Boys, let's settle down, shall we? We can't have you killing each other before the fun is even started. At least, not yet." It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

"Show yourself, stupid," Peter spat.

"As you wish."

The lights in the room brightened, showcasing how large and empty it was. A man, seeming to materialize from out of nowhere, stepped forward. Peter and Harley both tried to make out what he looked like, but it was hard as he was still secluded in shadow. All Peter could see was a long, dark cape, shiny armor, and… was that a glass ball on his head?

Sure enough, it was. He was covered in a bronze suit, and the orb on his head seemed to swirl with fog, his face impossible to see. The mystery person lifted his arms, and Peter and Harley looked on, rendered speechless.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Harley, recovering first, made yet another quip, and the man chuckled.

"I've been waiting a long time for you two. I'm finally going to get back everything Stark stole from me and more! Starting with you." He pointed at Peter, who knew exactly what he was talking about. "Tony doesn't deserve someone with your abilities. Or your smarts. So, I'm going to take you away. But… I'm going to make it fun, of course…"

"Your abilities?" Harley questioned, but Peter ignored him.

"Where are we?"

The man clapped his hands together, and the room changed again.

"My friends… welcome to Mysterio's House of Illusion!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. Stuff might start to get just a tad bit darker from here, so make sure to read trigger warnings I'll be putting at the beginning of each chapter if necessary
> 
> Hope u all are having a good winter break!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The second I think everything's okay, it isn't!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!! ik I said I wouldn't be posting today but I thought what the heck, it's Christmas! For those of you who celebrate a different holiday from me, I hope u are also having a fun holiday season. For those of you who may not feel up to/can't be celebrating today, I'm sending you love and hugs through the screen <3
> 
> This part is a bit shorter but it's got lots of feels, hope you like it!

Tony could always solve problems. It was just… his thing. He knew what he was doing and when. Always.

Except for today, apparently.

He woke up on Tuesday morning determined. He was going to get those files redacted and end his thief's games, here and now.

Twelve hours later, he still didn't have a clue where they were.

"This is stupid," he muttered to himself. "It's all so stupid."

"What's stupid?"

Tony lifted his head as his wife walked in.

"Hey, Pep. I was just, uh…"

"Overworking yourself again?" She knowingly replied, her eyebrows raised.

Tony lifted his hands.

"You know me."

"Did you find anything?"

"No. It isn't right. This should've taken me five minutes."

Pepper walked over to him, draping her arms over his shoulder and kissing him gently.

"You'll figure it out, Tony. You always do."

"Yeah, that's me."

Lost in the moment with Pepper, Tony almost didn't notice the blinking red light on the corner of his computer screen.

"Shit."

"What is it?"

Tony rubbed his eyes, flustered.

"FRIDAY'S acting up again." He gave Pepper a disappointed glance. "Sorry. Today just isn't my day."

"Just fix FRIDAY, I'll handle the rest!" Pepper shouted behind her as she left the lab, closing the door behind her.

Tony leaned forward to look at the time on his screen.

12:57 AM

He sighed, rubbing his hands together.

"Let's see what the problem is, eh, girl?" He chastised the monitor, almost as if that would bring FRIDAY out of her downed state. After working on the code for a couple of hours, he leaned back to examine his work.

"FRIDAY?" He stared up at the ceiling, waiting for an answer.

"I'm here, boss."

"Thank god." Tony smiled. "What's the status?"

"Checking the perimeter. One moment." FRIDAY did a scan of the building, the rooms popping up on Tony's computer screen. It was already 4:30 in the morning.

"Boss, there's something you need to see." The screen zoomed in to a section of the tower, glowing red. "There was a perimeter breach at 1:00 AM this morning."

Tony shook his head, confused. "What? How is that possible? Even if you were down we still have offline security systems-"

"It appears the security systems were dismantled by STARK Industries technology."

"What the hell?" Tony muttered to himself. "That's- that's not possible."

"Apparently, it is."

"Where was the breach?"

"West Hall, 4th Floor. Window of room 4C."

"Shit." Tony face turned white. "Call Happy. Right now. And get every security measure back online!"

"On it."

Tony leaped out of his chair and ran upstairs in a frenzied urgency, reaching the fourth floor breathless.

"Tony, got your call. What is it?" Happy ran up behind him, almost as out of breath. Without a word, Tony entered the code and the bedroom door slid open to reveal the scene before them.

The man's breathing hitched at the scene before him, the shattered glass and empty gas canisters laying strewn across the floor. 

"Shit," Tony muttered for what must've been the tenth time in the last 24 hours. "Shit. Happy, I need the cams online."

"Cams were out last night," Happy replied, his eyes wild as he took in the empty bedroom. Without warning, Tony turned on him, seething.

"Shut the  _ hell  _ up, Happy! Don't you get it? Don't you  _ fucking  _ get it? The second I think everything's okay, it  _ isn't _ ! Shit, I'm supposed to be some smart-ass billionaire with the best tech in the entire world! I'm supposed to be able to keep one damn building secure for one damn night but the second I think everything is okay, someone breaks in here and steals a couple of fucking  _ kids _ ! Kids I  _ promised  _ I'd keep safe! I failed, godammit, Happy! I couldn't even keep one simple promise, I couldn't keep one simple AI online for 24 goddamn hours! I  _ failed _ and now there's two teenage boys out there somewhere in who knows what condition, two boys I promised I'd keep safe, and it's all my goddamn fault!"

Happy stood, taken aback momentarily as he watched Tony Stark, the guy who could handle anything, lose his composure entirely. He placed his hands on the smaller man's shoulders.

"Tony, it's not your fault-"

"Yes it  _ is,  _ Happy. I'm supposed to know how this shit works, but I just let some random bastard come in and ruin my entire system! Now Peter and Harley are out there god knows where, and it's because I couldn't keep my system running well enough to protect them!"

"Tony, sit down. You're shaking."

"I'm not. I need to find them."

"Tony. Tony, look at me." Happy stood in front of him, crossing his arms. "I know shit looks bad right now. I know you're pissed at yourself. It's something you would do, be mad at yourself for not being smart enough. But this wasn't your fault. Whoever took them knew your systems well enough to know how to take them out. What we  _ need  _ right now is to look back and find out who that could be. Until then, I'm sure the kids are going to be okay. Peter can keep them safe, Tony. You have to believe in him. You have to believe in them both."

Tony looked down for a moment, and Happy knew the gears in his head were turning, the way they always did when there was a problem Tony needed to fix.

"You're right. You're right, Happy. I have to go back through my database. I need you to put the tower on lockdown. No one goes in or out until I say so. And I need security to go on a double shift."

Happy nodded.

"You got it, boss."

With Tony's new mission setting him straight for the moment, he headed back to his lab to get to work.

He was going to find the asshole who took his kids. And when he did, he was going to make them pay.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Say that again, Peter Parker. I dare you."

"I don't even understand how this could've happened. Mr. Stark told me everything was fine."

"Yeah, well, maybe he lied to you because he didn't wanna scare you, you poor, adorable, little angel." Harley scoffed, sitting with his back against the wall and rolling a piece of string between his thumb and pointer finger. Since they had been introduced to the "Mysterio" person, they had been locked in an empty room and left to wonder what he had planned for them.

"You think I'm cute? I'm touched," Peter replied back, meeting Harley's comment with an equal amount of annoyance. To his surprise, the tips of Harley's ears turned red.

"That's not what I meant, idiot."

"What do you think the deal is with this guy, anyway? Where did he come from? What's his problem with Mr. Stark? What did he steal for this-"

"Do you ever stop talking?!" Harley groaned loudly, the sound echoing through their tiny cells. "I think I'll die from my ears bleeding out because of your annoying voice before that asshole even gets to do anything with me."

" _ I'm  _ trying to figure out the situation, thank you very much. And you're not being much help, sitting there and acting like a spoiled brat who's daddy put him in time-out because he said a bad word."

Harley stood up, and Peter knew he had made him angry.

"You know what, Parker? I don't have time for your childish  _ bullshit _ . If you had any common sense, you'd know there's no way for us to get out of here. But, apparently, you're too stupid to know when to  _ shut up. _ "

"Maybe I don't know when to shut up, Keener," Peter spat back, stepping closer to the larger boy. "Maybe that's because I'm not as much of a freaking coward as you are!"

" _ I'm  _ not the coward here. You're the one who almost pissed his pants watching some random dude fake-die."

"He wasn't some random guy! Ever since you first saw me, all you've ever done was be a complete assface! You don't deserve to be helped by Mr. Stark! You don't deserve  _ anything _ !"

Harley stepped forward, and the two boys were so close now that they were almost touching. Peter could smell the other boy, his strong scent of rain, coffee, and sweat washing over him. He should've been intimidated, but he was too angry now to be scared.

"Say that again, Peter Parker. I  _ fucking  _ dare you."

"Get out of my face."

"Say it again! You think I give one single shit about you and your goddamn problems?! You're just like every other stupid, spoiled boy who had  _ everything  _ handed to him! You don't know  _ shit  _ about me!"

His hand met Peter's shoulder and pushed hard enough to make the boy stumble, but he wasn't fazed.

"You're a piece of shit, Harley Keener!"

Harley laughed, cold and cruel. In the heat of the moment, both of the boys had entirely stopped caring about the fact that they were currently kidnapped and being held captive in an empty, square, stone chamber. Peter, in his fury, felt his skin heating up as his fists clenched.

"Hit me, Parker.  _ I dare you. _ "

Peter did.

Harley was sent flying, his back hitting the wall behind him and knocking the wind out of him entirely. His head pounded, and, for a moment, he thought he might pass out, stars dancing in front of his vision as Peter stood in front of him, a deadly glare in his eyes.

"You- how- fuck- ow- shit-" Harley tried to stand up immediately, but he was sent to his hands and knees, breathing heavily as he tried to regain his composure and shake the ringing from his ears. Peter retreated to the opposite wall of the cell, sitting down calmly. Harley didn't know it, but Peter was already regretting his decision.

He shouldn't have punched him, especially not using his enhanced strength. He knew that, and he knew he'd be tearing himself apart in guilt for it later. But, still, in that moment it had felt so  _ good. _

Part of him wanted to go and help him up, ask him if he was okay. He knew he took it too far. Even though Harley had always been a dick, he had never taken to physically harming Peter. Unfortunately, the hit had already been taken, and now there might be no salvaging whatever chance they had at putting aside their differences.

Closing his eyes, Peter tuned out the harsh breathing of the boy across from him and silently willed his predicament away, as if, when he opened them again, he'd be back in his own bed, in his own room, his fear and anger a thing of the past and his safe haven restored.

***

Meanwhile, Harry Osborne was in a bit of a stressful situation. He had spent the whole day texting Peter, his messages starting out humorous and light-hearted but as the day progressed and his calls continued to go to voice-mail, his concern increased. 

H: Peter, did you get your phone taken away or something?

H: Pete please answer I'm getting worried

H: did i do something?

H: hello?

H: you better have a good excuse for this. It's been twelve hours

H: peter, please answer me

H: you're scaring me

Realizing texting Peter wasn't going to do any good, he sent his friend Ned Leeds a message.

H: hey Ned

H: have you seen Peter?

Ned replied after a few moments, but it wasn't the answer Harry was looking for.

Ned: He wasn't at school today

Ned: he texted me yesterday to let me know he was gonna be working on something for his internship

H: thanks, Ned. If he texts you, lemme know

Ned: u got it

After a continued effort to get the kid to answer his phone, Harry pulled up a different contact and dialed the number.

"Hi Harry, what's up?"

"Hello, Mrs. Parker. Have you seen Peter at all today?"

There was a bit of shuffling in the background, then Peter's aunt cleared her throat.

"Harry, how many times have I told you to call me May?" She scolded him lightly, her tone cheerful. "Peter's been at STARK Tower all day working on a project for his internship. Why?"

"He hasn't been answering me all day. He's usually on his phone a lot."

"Maybe he just lost track of time and forgot to check." May sounded a bit unsure about that. "He was supposed to call me this morning and he didn't, though. Peter never forgets to call me."

"Maybe… maybe his phone broke? Or it died and he forgot to plug it in."

"Perhaps… I'll check in with Happy and ask."

"Okay. Thanks, May."

"Call me anytime, Harry," she said, hanging up the phone.

Harry ran his hand through his hair, wondering what on earth could be up with Peter.

***

To say the very least, Happy was panicking.

After the crime scene the two men had walked in on early in the morning, Tony had shut down the entire tower, including banning any and all communication. Happy, already knowing May Parker would be worried out of her mind eventually, had to wait until night had fallen before Tony had allowed him to call her.

"If he's watching us, I need to know about it, Happy. If someone here is communicating with him, I need to know about it. If someone so much as turns on a TV, I need to know about it. Understood?"

The point is, Tony got obsessive when someone messed with the things he cared about. And he cared a  _ ton  _ about Peter and Harley, as much as he wouldn't want to admit it.

"Call May. I'm going to handle the Keener family." Tony had said this to him just as Happy was beginning to lose his cool, exhausted from having to usher the building's staff in and out and run one security sweep after another. If there was one thing Tony never did, it was make the same mistake twice.

May picked up after one ring, her voice shaky.

"I've been calling you all afternoon, Happy!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. Tony wouldn't let us contact anyone until he could secure the phone lines. I'm sorry, May."

"Where's Peter? He hasn't called or texted me or any of his friends all day, and I'm getting concerned-"

"We don't- we- God, May, I don't know how to say this to you-"

"Spit it out, Happy." The women was definitely worried now.

"There was a security breach. Peter… Peter got taken."

The silence on the other line was only broken when May let out a strangled noise, halfway between a sob and a scream.

"Stark said- Stark- he said Peter would be safe there-"

"May, just stay calm. It's gonna be okay. We're gonna find him."

She still didn't speak, and Happy knew she was trying to hide her anguish.

"I'm so sorry. We're gonna get him back. I promise."

Silence. Without warning, May hung up the phone, leaving a defeated Happy alone, the phone still on his ear as if she would somehow call again and everything would be solved. He hated knowing she was in pain. She was in pain and it was, at least partially, his fault.

He had to do his part to keep the tower safe while Tony tried to find the boys. If he couldn't manage that, he didn't deserve to have someone as good as May to keep safe, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're having a nice day :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't think you know what's real, Peter."
> 
> TW: Implied past sexual abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. This is a hefty chapter. I was definitely debating including Sk*p Westcott at all in this story because it's quite a sensitive topic and I wasn't sure if it would go down well, but I made the decision to for the plot. Nothing graphic, just implied, so please be careful!

"How the hell did you do that, Peter? How did you- you're just a skinny kid-"

Peter stayed sitting against the wall while Harley, recovered from his shock, paced the room, looking more than a little anxious about the smaller boy next to him.

"Are you on steroids?"

With a dry laugh, Peter shook his head.

"I'm not on steroids, stupid."

"Then how-"

"Don't be so bothered by it."

"Oh,  _ I'm _ sorry for being bothered by the fact that you just slammed me into a  _ wall  _ with your tiny-ass hand!"

Their conversation was cut short when the lights went out in the room, leaving the boys in darkness.

"Well, this isn't ideal."

"Shut up, Parker."

They stood for a moment in silence, waiting for something to happen.

"I hope you both are ready for the show to begin!" The same male voice from before echoed through the darkness. Peter could feel the tingle beginning in the back of his neck, and he placed his hand against the wall, the cold, smooth texture of the stone keeping him grounded.

"Where are you?" Harley muttered to himself. "Where the hell are you?"

"He's using some sort of tech… Mr. Stark's tech, I think… to create images."

"You're a smart cookie, Peter Parker. Can I call you Einstein?"

Suddenly, Peter tensed up.

"No. No, you- you can't."

"Aw, why not? Such a nice name for such a nice, smart boy." Mysterio's voice was changing. It was changing and Peter was freaking out, his hands held out in front of him to shield himself from whatever was in the darkness.

"No. Stop. Stop it- please don't do this! It's not real!"

"I don't think you know what's real, Peter."

The boy was alone. In his room. Somewhere far away, he could hear Harley shouting something. The Star Wars posters on his wall were all too familiar, lego pieces and magazines scattered on the floor.

_ Those  _ magazines. Peter hated them. He hated everything about this place.

"Let me out! Let me out!" He closed his eyes, a choked sob making its way out of his mouth as he curled up in a ball on the floor, the same cold, hard surface meeting his skin. "Please!"

"C'mon, Einstein, let's try it. Let's do what they're doing in the picture."

"No, no, no, no, please…" Peter didn't open his eyes, but he knew exactly what was happening. A rush of air went over his head.

"You don't want your aunt and uncle to know what a bad little boy you've been, do you?"

"Stop! You're not real!"

"I'm very real, Peter. I know you want this. I'll give it to you. Nobody has to know. You like it, I know you do."

"I don't! Stop it!" The boy continued to sob, his hands over his head. Behind him, Harley was still shouting something, but his voice sounded distant and empty.

"Just let me do it already, Einstein. You want it and you know you do, you little-"

"Peter!" A hand touched his back and Peter yelped, scrambling to get away from the contact.

"Stop!" He shouted again.

"Peter, it's me! Open your eyes!"

He opened them slowly, realizing his room had disappeared and he was back in the empty cell.

"Jesus christ, Parker, what the fuck?"

Harley stood over him, shocked, his eyes wide.

"I couldn't move, and then I saw you panicking, and there was this guy, and- and I don't know what the fuck is goin' on! I want out!"

Peter stayed on the floor, trying to stop his ugly, heavy sobs and regain control of his breathing and his mind.

"See? That wasn't so bad." Mysterio's voice came crackling through the room, and Peter put his hands over his ears, despite knowing it would be no use. "Hope you liked the show, Harley Keener. Your act is up next."

The silence left when Mysterio stopped talking was enough to make Peter shiver, still laying shell-shocked in his position on the floor.

"Peter. You have to get up."

"No I don't," the smaller boy mumbled, mostly to himself.

"Come on." Harley pushed against Peter's shoulder, causing him to shy away.

"Don't touch me!"

"What the hell was that, anyway?"

"Like you care."

"I-"

The kid had a point. All Harley had done since he had first met Peter was assume he knew everything about him.

"I just wanna know since, like, we're stuck in here. Maybe it can help me figure out what the guy's after."

"Even if you did care, you're wrong if you think I'd ever tell you."

In a split second, the silver sheen of Harley's sensitivity was gone, replaced again by his arrogant demeanor.

"Fine. You're right, I  _ don't  _ care. If we die in here, it's your fault."

Peter stayed quiet, unwilling or incapable of spitting out his usual spiteful response. Harley retreated to the other corner of the cell, leaving the boy lying alone and staring bitterly at the heavy-bolted door in front of him, quietly wishing it would open. Both the boys had already taken their stab at trying to open in, but the metal had been too thick, where even Peter, who, his super strength unbeknownst to Harley, had beat on it as hard as he could and barely made a dent. 

Suddenly, it opened, and Harley lifted his head, surprised with himself, until a familiar red-caped man walked through.

"Did anyone ever tell you that costume looks pretty stupid?" The boy chided, but Mysterio just laughed, amused.

"How are you, Mr. Keener? Settling in well with your friend here, I hope." He gestured to Peter, who had moved himself into a sitting position and was staring ahead, eyes blank and focused on some distant point.

"I think you should let us go now actually, thanks."

Mysterio laughed.

"You seem like a fun boy. It will be entertaining to watch you struggle."

With a click, his hands reached up and pulled off the globe over his head to reveal a middle-aged face, lined with stubble, his eyes an intriguing green color and his nose slightly crooked, as if it had been broken once and hastily realigned.

"I'm sure you have probably been wondering who I am and why you are here, yes?"

Harley stayed silent, his gaze cold and calculating to withhold his fear from being put on display.

He was alone. And he was scared.

"My name is Quentin Beck. I am a victim of the arrogance and manipulative ways of a certain Tony Stark. See, I used to work for him, developing technology which could've been used to save  _ millions. _ My virtual imagery was going to change the world for the better, Harley! But, instead of getting the recognition I deserved, Stark stole my technology from my hands, turning it into a mere self-therapy project. All my hard work,  _ years  _ of research, thrown down the drain because  _ Tony  _ just couldn't bear to let someone else take the spotlight."

"Sounds like you're just jealous," Harley mumbled.

"Me? Jealous? Oh no, boy, I just wanted to get back what I deserved. I broke into Stark Industries to steal back what was mine, but I wasn't quite satisfied. What I really wanted was  _ revenge.  _ And when I read that Tony was taking care of two  _ children _ , you can bet I was excited."

"You're a psychopath." Peter's voice rose from the corner of the cell, his eyes moving to stare at Beck. "You think you can break us to hurt Mr. Stark."

Beck smiled, a cold, unnerving expression which sent a shiver down Harley's spine.

"Little Peter Parker. Tony isn't going to be able to fix you once I'm done. You may be strong on the outside, but I know your weaknesses."

"How did you know about Skip?"

_ Skip,  _ Harley made a mental note in his mind of the name.

The man shrugged.

"Simple research," he said. "Once I knew who you truly were, all I had to do was a bit of hacking."

"You won't get away with this. Mr. Stark will find us."

"For being who you are, Peter, you have very little trust in yourself." Beck moved closer to the smaller boy, who looked up to meet his eyes, his gaze unwavering.

_ Who is he? _ Harley was confused, his gaze moving to look at Peter. He was just a kid. A normal, geeky kid who could barely tie his own shoes. Right?

"Show him, Peter. You know he's curious." Quentin was taunting him now, edging closer to Peter.

"I'm not doing what you say. I've dealt with worse than you, trust me, Beck."

"Then show him. Don't be afraid, Peter," Beck said, his malicious grin still wide on his face.

"Fuck you," Peter spat, standing up as a wave of adrenaline washed over him. "You think you can hurt me more than I've already been hurt? You think you can break me?" The boy chuckled, dry and deadpan. Harley watched, wide-eyed, as Peter's newfound confidence made him take a step closer to the man. "You're just a coward who wants to make people scared with stupid, fake videos."

To both the kids' surprise, he began to laugh again.

"Oh, Peter Parker," he chuckled. "You are scared, aren't you? You were scared when I showed you Skip. Did that seem so  _ fake  _ to you, Peter? Did it?"

"Shut  _ up _ !" Peter kicked the man, but his foot went through thin air as he disappeared entirely, leaving as quickly as he had arrived.

"The door!" Harley shouted. The metal door was closing and Peter, still breathing heavily, ran towards it, pulling the handle as hard as he could to prevent it from shutting, the frame just inches away from the door itself. As Peter pulled, the door began to open wider, inch by inch, until it was almost wide enough for Harley to squeeze through.

"Come on, you're almost there!" Harley screamed, trying to help push the door open.

"No!" With an ear-splitting shriek, the handle was ripped clean off and the door slammed shut, leaving the boys trapped again.

" _ Fuck, _ " Harley screamed, kicking the door with his foot, barely noticing the fact that Peter was standing beside him, holding a deformed handle in his palm. When he finally looked over, Peter was staring down at it, tears brimming on the edge of his eyes.

"How the hell did you do that?!"

"It's vibranium," the boy breathed, turning the doorpiece over and over in his hands. 

"What?!"

"I can't get through because it's vibranium."

"Oh, yeah, because  _ that  _ makes sense. Because you would totally be able to get through any other type of metal."

With a strangled shout, Peter drew his fist and Harley leaped back, thinking the boy was going to hit him again. Peter's hand was sent straight into the concrete wall next to the door, an enormous crack leading to a dent in the stone. The small, seemingly-helpless boy stared at the rupture he had created, his eyes dark.

"We're trapped," he breathed, almost to himself. "I can't get us out."

"Peter Parker, how the  _ fuck  _ did you just do that?! _ You better start answering my questions or- _ "

"Okay. Fine. I'll explain it to you. I'll tell you everything! You just have to promise me you'll listen. Got it, Keener?"

Any trace of the scared, cowering Peter was gone. Harley nodded, quickly running a hand through his hair.

"Got it," he replied.

For the first time, Harley Keener  _ listened  _ to Peter Parker.

Little did he know, it wouldn't be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all are having a good day! Thank you sm for all the love on this story so far, i really didn't expect like ANYONE to want to read it haha, but it makes me so happy to know y'all are liking it, especially when we're only a few chapters in!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So what do we do now, webhead?"

"So you're… an Avenger?!"

"Well, yeah… technically."

Peter and Harley were sitting across from each other in their small, square cell, Harley with his legs out straight in front of him and Peter with his knees to his chest.

Harley stared at the boy, astounded. How was Peter Parker, the dorky, pushover kid,  _ Spiderman _ ? He almost couldn't believe it.

"Why don't you tell anyone? If it was me, I'd want to tell the whole world."

"I figured."

"So you can, like, climb walls and shit? And you have super strength? What else can you do?"

"You're a lot more interested than I thought you would be," Peter replied, wearily raising his eyebrow. Harley looked down, blushing.

"Spiderman, is, uh, Abby's favorite Avenger."

"Who's Abby?"

"My little sister."

"Oh."

There was silence for a moment, and both boys avoided meeting each other's eyes. Finally, Peter spoke, breaking the awkward tension in the room.

"I have enhanced senses too, mostly for hearing and touch. My ears are a lot more sensitive to loud noises."

Harley thought back to Peter's irritation at him when he had been blasting music in their room, realizing it had probably caused him a lot more pain than he would've anticipated.

"I have an enhanced metabolism and super-healing. Among other, worse things that aren't safe to say here." Peter glanced around the walls, knowing there was probably some form of surveillance being kept on them.

"That's insane. I wouldn't have expected it to be someone… like you."

"What do you mean by that?" Peter retorted, anger rising in his face again.

"No, I mean like… you just seemed so innocent. Like nobody had ever done you any wrong."

The smaller boy shrugged.

"Guess I'm just good at putting on a show. When I put on the suit, I become someone else entirely."

Harley looked down at his hands, picking at the skin on his thumb.

"I get that," he mumbled to himself.

"I doubt it."

"I'm trying to listen to you, Parker, okay?! I'm trying to make things better. If I'm not gonna be actin' like I know you, you better not be assuming shit about me, either. You know  _ nothing  _ about me."

"Yeah, well, now you can't say the same for me." Peter lifted his head.

"Who's Skip?"

Harley noticed the other boy flinch, his eyes darkening for a moment before he regained himself.

"No one important," he muttered.

"That's what you said about the other guy."

"Because it's  _ not  _ important, Harley. Especially not to you."

"Don't even try that, Parker. All I'm doing is trying to know more about you."

"Well, you're being a dick about it."

Harley stood up, kicking the vibranium door with his foot and exhaling with frustration.

"All I want is to get out of this hellhole! I want that ugly bastard to stop messing with my  _ head  _ Parker! But I can't stop him, can I? I'm stuck in here with  _ you _ !"

"I'll figure something out. Sit down, Harley. You're gonna get us in trouble."

"Right, because I'm gonna listen to some big-shot super kid who was on the floor wailing like a little baby over someone as  _ not  _ important as a guy named Skip!"

"It's none of your  _ fucking  _ business, Keener! Do you  _ always  _ have to be picking on me for something? Sit  _ down _ !"

Deep down, Harley knew he was mad at himself, not Peter. The guilt that was constantly eating away at him had increased by a tenfold since he had met the kid. The shame burned a constant hole inside him, reminding him he wasn't good enough for anything. He hadn't even been good enough to give his dad a reason to stay.

And now here he was, insulting the guy who had just opened himself up to him, because Harley's own guilt and pride told him to push Peter away before he could hurt him any more. Peter didn't deserve to be mistreated, and Harley knew that. The boy had probably been through enough shit already. It just made him so  _ mad  _ that Peter could seem so happy, when he was hurting so much inside. It made Harley angry because he knew he couldn't do the same. He was always going to be the one to lash out first. He hated it.

But would he ever tell anyone that? Of course not.

When he finally turned around, Peter was staring up at him, his gaze searching and analytical.

"Are you done?" He asked, his hands resting on his knees.

_ He looks cute like that _ , Harley thought to himself, a spontaneous feeling shooting down his spine.

_ What the hell? No he doesn't. He definitely does not. _

He sat back down with a grunt.

"So what do we do now, webhead?"

"Is that really what you're gonna call me now?"

Harley smirked.

"What are you gonna do about it?"

Like it or not, Peter took Harley's retort to be attractive rather than intimidating. He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant and praying the heat in his cheeks wasn't visible.

"It's better than shrimpy." He did another scan of the room.

"This Beck guy certainly likes to take his sweet time."

As if on cue, the lights in the cell dimmed.

"Oh, great," Harley muttered. "My wish just came true."

"Your turn, Mr. Keener," the familiar voice rose out of the emptiness. Both boys stood up, looking around them for a cue.

"I apologize for the wait. There were some… technical difficulties that had to be sorted out."

With the way he said "technical difficulties", Peter knew what he meant was "I had to remove someone from the equation". 

"Don't worry. It won't be long before I'm done with both of you. Then you'll have all the time in the world."

***

"Tony, open up!"

Pepper Potts banged on the door to Tony's lab, which had been shut all morning with nothing but the occasional crash and angry curse to let her know the man was still in there.

"Tony, it's been twelve hours. You need to eat something. Open the goddamn door!"

With a  _ thud  _ and the sound of multiple button clicks, FRIDAY's voice came through the intercom.

"Good evening, Mrs. Potts."

"Yeah, let me in, FRIDAY."

The door finally unlocked and Pepper slammed it open, almost tripping over a steel bar thrown haphazardly on the floor. Looking around, she realized the entire lab was in a chaotic disarray.

"Jesus, Tony."

Stark himself was in the middle of the room, hunched over the holographic display on his table.

"FRIDAY, I need you to fly a recon drone here," he mumbled, tapping a spot on the screen. "And I need all city camera recordings for the last two days in my computer stat. Call Rhodes and tell him the last location was a no-go."

The way Tony talked was with a crazed, focused glint in his eyes, and he moved with the erratic motions of someone who had been running on Red Bulls for the last week. Pepper had seen it only once before, after the Battle of New York.

"Pepper, I'm busy. Can you get Happy down here? I need Happy. I've been working on a new prototype-"

"Tony." She moved closer to him, moving a few metal parts off of a table setting the warm box of food down to touch Tony's shoulder. "You need to take a break."

"Break? Me?" The man laughed, trying to hide his exhaustion. "I'm fine, Pep," he replied, raising his arms. "I've been worse. Besides, the boys are out there and I have to find them. I know who took them."

"Oh?" Pepper questioned, raising her eyebrows. Tony nodded, his pen tapping furiously against the corner of the table.

"Quentin Beck. A former employee of mine. Was working with me on my virtual reality beneficiary project. Binaries Augmented Retro Framing. Anyways, I think I took the patent from him because he wanted to use it to torture terrorists or something. I don't really remember. He was responsible for the break-in the other day. Apparently he's been designing illusion tech that's a hundred times better than the original design. I think- I think he might be trying to use it to get back at me."

"That's terrible, Tony."

Stark frowned, staring down at the images on his table. Police reports, live camera footage, and Stark Industries drone photos were arranged in a disorderly fashion across the display.

"What can I say? I made some mistakes, sure. But I thought- I thought I'd already fixed most of them. When I find that bastard, I'm gonna show him a piece of my mind."

"I know you'll find them," Pepper reassured him, kissing his cheek. "Because I know how much you care about them. But for now, you need to put it down and take care of yourself for a few minutes. Eat."

"Yeah. I will. Love you, Pep," Tony gave her a soft smile, kissing her gently, and Pepper turned around to leave, trusting he would eat if he knew she wanted him to.

"FRIDAY, you keep those scans going," Tony directed the AI as stood up to look inside the lukewarm box. "Let me know immediately if there's any new information."

"On it, boss."

_ Quentin Beck, _ Tony thought to himself,  _ when I'm done with you, you'll only wish you were dead. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah um there's a LOT more trauma in store for these boys (sorry!!)
> 
> Hope you are liking the story so far though x
> 
> Btw, happy new year to everyone!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Even if you're the worst person in the world to me, I'll always catch you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm SO sorry for being AWOL all of last week. After winter break ended and school started up again I got severely overwhelmed with assignments I had to do.
> 
> But anyways here is a nice, longer chapter for yall to make up for it :) I really like this chapter so I hope u do too!

Harley was crying. He was crying and Peter didn't know what to do, wherever he tried to run there was a glass wall he ran into, his surroundings shrouded in darkness except for the spotlight shining down on Harley, bright and overwhelming and eerie. All he saw was the boy in the middle of the light, talking to a young girl and an older woman, his hands making frantic gestures and his face contorting in pain. Peter tried to control the ringing in his ears and focus on what he was saying.

"-Mom, please! Please don't do this! I'll do better, I promise! I won't get in any more trouble at school and I'll bring my grades up, I-" Harley seemed distraught. "This hasn't happened," he kept repeating to himself, mumbling the words over and over until they formed an unintelligible string. "This isn't real. It's not real, do you hear me?!"

"Harley, stop pretending this isn't real," the woman who must be his mom chided. "You've had this coming for a long time. Why do you think your father left all those years ago? He knew he had to leave when he realized the disappointment you would grow up to be."

"No, Mom, please-" Harley sank to the floor, covering his ears. "I'm not fucking listening to you! Stupid  _ fucking  _ bastard!"

"Abby and I are leaving," his mom continued, her voice shaky calm and monotone as ever. The little girl standing next to her shook her head.

"Mom, you can't do this.  _ Please  _ stay."

But his mom had already disappeared. Harley's quiet cries turned into small sniffles, and when Pete placed his hand out hesitantly, he found that whatever glass had been blocking him had been removed.

"Harley," he said softly, walking closer to the other boy. "Are you okay?"

"Don't  _ fucking  _ talk to me like that, Parker!"

"I'm- I'm sorry-"

Harley stayed on his knees on the ground, hiding his face from Peter.

"Sorry," he mumbled after a moment. "Shouldn't've yelled."

"It's okay."

"I'm fine." He stood up, walking over to the tiny, dingy sink at the corner of their cell and splashing water over his face while Peter looked on, tentative.

"I don't think you are, Harley."

"Listen, webs, if you get to keep your dumb secrets from me, I can keep mine from you, okay?"

"I don't- it's not like you've been the easiest person to talk to."

"Yeah, well, you haven't either," Harley scoffed, running a wet hand through his hair and keeping his eyes focused on the sink basin. "Just leave me alone."

"Fine."

Peter had barely spit out his response when they heard the familiar voice of Beck again.

"I see you two have become familiar with each other, eh?" The man spoke with arrogance.

"Fuck him," Harley muttered.

Peter agreed.

"Time for another act."

The lights went out, and the boys prepared for the worst.

***

"Peter wouldn't do something like this. He wouldn't go this long without calling."

Harry was sitting at a table with Ned in their favorite cafe, The Beachwood, where they and Peter often met up to work on science projects or discuss the events of the day.

"Maybe he's just been really focused on his projects." Ned waved his hand in the air, but Harry could tell he was worried, too.

"No, Ned. You  _ know  _ that's not what Peter's like. He can't survive a day without needing to scroll through Tumblr at least once."

Ned sighed.

"You're right," he said, dipping a spoon into his coffee and swirling it around until the white streaks of milk had mixed with the brown. "Then where the hell is he?"

"I have no idea! I've been trying to call his Aunt, but I keep going to voice-mail. Hell, I tried walking into Stark Industries yesterday and I couldn't make it past the front entrance! It's been almost three days, Ned!"

Normally, three days probably wasn't enough to warrant too much concern from a couple of teenage boys. But with Peter, anything and everything could be a concern. The kid got himself into trouble  _ a lot.  _ Harry could count at least three times he walked into Peter's apartment to find him sitting on his bed, blood trickling from a cut in his arm or a giant bruise on his face. When questioned about what the hell he had gotten himself into, Peter generally mumbled a half-assed response about getting into a fight and "you should've seen the other guy".

"Maybe we should stop by his place. He might've just gotten his phone taken away or something," Ned suggested, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah. Let's do that."

Twenty minutes later, the boys were knocking on the door of Peter's apartment. When no one answered, Harry knocked again, his fist thudding against the door roughly.

"Coming!" They heard May shout, followed by a lock click and the door opening.

"Hey, kids," she said, giving them a small smile. Something was… off about the expression in May's face. She looked like she had been crying.

"Hi, Mrs. Parker-"

"May, Harry."

"Sorry, May. We, uh, we were wondering if you knew where Peter was?"

May looked down, her lower lip trembling. Something was definitely wrong. And whatever it was, May didn't want them to know.

"If this is a bad time, we can come back…"

Peter's aunt shook her head, opening the door wider.

"No, I think you two should come in. There's… something going on you deserve to know about."

After walking into the apartment, she ushered them into the living room, telling them to sit on the couch. Looking around, both boys didn't fail to notice the disarray the apartment was in. Papers lay strewn around the floor, the kitchen sink was filled up with dirty dishes, and there were at least five different mugs on the coffee table. May paced back and forth in front of them.

"Peter… he hasn't been here the last few days." Her voice trembled slightly. "He, um… well, actually… God, I don't know where he is. I- we've been looking for him but we have no idea where he was taken and- and- I don't know what I'm supposed to do, I mean do I just sit here and- and wait for him to-"

Her voice cracked and she covered her face with her hands. Harry and Ned stayed seated, shocked at what she had just said.

"May, you mean he was- kidnapped?!" Ned breathed, fear lacing the surprise in his tone.

May nodded, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes.

"Yeah. It was… three days ago."

"Oh my god, May." Harry stood up, walking closer to the sobbing women and placing his hand on her shoulder, ignoring his own worry for the moment. "I- I'm so sorry. I don't- I don't know what to say."

She sniffled, grabbing a Kleenex off the kitchen counter and rubbing her nose with it.

"I'm sorry. Jesus, I'm a mess. You kids shouldn't have to be dealing with this right now."

"It's okay," Ned said. "Peter's our friend. We want to help."

"No, I don't- I don't want you kids getting involved. No need to put you in danger, too."

"May, if Peter's missing, we want to do something about it. We can help you. We- we can search the city and stuff. I don't know. We'll figure something out."

May gave Harry a soft, sad smile.

"You've always cared so much about him Harry, and I'm so thankful for that. He sees you like a big brother, you know. But… I'd rather you just let us handle it, okay?" She placed her hand on his where it was rested on her shoulder, rubbing her thumb against it. "I'm not going to get more people Peter and I care about involved."

"But, May-" Ned interjected, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

"No buts, Ned. Peter needs you. Don't go doing anything reckless, got it? We will find him. We will."

Harry nodded comfortingly.

"He's a strong little dude. He'll be okay, May. He'll hang in there."

May nodded, closing her eyes and taking another slow, long breath.

"I know. He's one of the strongest people I know. He's been through so much, I-" she choked on her words, another round of tears threatening to pour down her cheeks. Harry hated seeing May hurt like this. She always cared for him, ever since he was a kid. Whenever he and his dad had a really bad argument, she would be there to make him hot cocoa, wrap him in a warm blanket and waste away the night watching Star Wars marathons with him and Peter. He knew Ned felt the same way. May was like a protector to all of them, most of all her nephew.

"He just doesn't deserve to have any more pain," she finished. Ned nodded.

"You're right."

They stayed with May for a while longer, drinking tea and talking about less cumbersome things, but soon Harry knew May wanted to be left alone.

"Thanks for telling us all that, May. I hope you can find him soon."

May wrapped them both in a gentle hug.

"Thank you both. You don't know how much I appreciate you always being here for Peter."

Harry nodded, smiling gently. Then he left with Ned, walking back out into the brisk New York evening.

"That's… insane," Ned murmured, shaking his head. "It's almost like it doesn't feel real, you know?"

Harry nodded.

"Hey, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He said goodbye to Ned when they reached the train station.

"Yeah. Tomorrow. What are you gonna do?"

"What do you mean?"

"About Peter. You're gonna try and find him, right?"

Harry pursed his lips.

"What makes you think that?"

Ned rolled his eyes.

"Please. You're Harry Osborn, rich kid genius. You  _ always  _ have some sort of plan."

Harry shrugged.

"Well, maybe I am."

"Good," Ned said, smiling. "And when you do find him, I'm the first to know. Deal?"

Despite the situation, Harry let out a small chuckle.

"It's a deal, Leeds."

_ Time to find Peter. _

*******

All Harley knew was that he was standing on a ledge next to Peter Parker.

Part of him registered the fact that this was fake, but the other part of him didn't dare to move his feet one inch. A cold breeze blew past his face, and he could smell the scent of the ocean.

"Harry!" Peter shouted, without warning, and ran off.

"Wait, Parker!"

In the distance, Mysterio was holding a black-haired kid with green eyes and a pale, freckled face.

"Let him go!" Peter shouted frantically, his steps thudding against the ground as he ran next to the edge of the cliff towards the two. As the figures drew closer, Harley realized Beck was holding the guy by his neck over the side of the ledge. His eyes widened.

"Harry, no!" Peter had reached them, but it was too late. Harry was falling, plummeting into the dark abyss, his eyes wide and his arms flailing as he disappeared. Peter screamed, hurtling himself at Beck, but he disappeared, and the kid fell, too.

"Shit, Peter!" Harley yelled. He ran to where the kid had fallen, but he had disappeared.

"Parker!"

Green mist had begun to swirl around him, clouding his vision even more and making him feel like he was standing in a thick, creamy bowl of soup. It filled his nostrils and he gagged, leaning forward again to try and find Peter.

A second later, Harley was falling, too.

He screamed, his hands reaching out into the green fog, trying to catch himself on something. As he fell, he closed his eyes.

_ If this is it,  _ he thought to himself,  _ I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry, Abby. _

Then he felt himself collide with someone else, their arms strong and unwavering.

"I got you," Peter said breathlessly, holding the other boy against his chest. He had heard Harley's scream and had tried to regain himself enough to stand up and catch him. "I got you, don't worry," he repeated, as Harley rolled away from him, breathing heavily. The green mist disappeared and the blackness around them with it, revealing them to be in a large, empty, stone building with multiple open levels.

"Th-thanks," Harley mumbled, trying to control his trembling. Peter watched him, his eyes clouded with worry.

"Are you okay?"

To his surprise, Harley shook his head.

"No… no, I'm not. I just fell like three stories. I thought I was for sure dead meat."

He looked up to see the point the boys must have fallen from, an empty ledge with a staircase jutting out from it on the opposite end of the room. The building was large and dim, and there were no windows as far as he could see.

"Sorry. If I hadn't panicked, you probably wouldn't even have run after me."

"This place is scary as hell. I don't blame you for panicking." Harley laid on the floor, his head still spinning. "Was that a friend of yours?"

Peter nodded, looking around. Wordlessly, he stood up and walked to the nearest hole in the floor, peering down into it.

"We could try and find a way out of here," he said.

"Yeah. Just… give me a second." Harley shut his eyes, trying to control his dizziness. When he opened them again, he felt, for a split second, like he was falling again, spinning away endlessly into the darkness below him.

"Harley."

He realized he had zoned out, and Peter was saying his name.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

"Thanks for saving my life, by the way. Even though I've been a dick to you."

Peter shrugged.

"I've met worse."

"I doubt it."

"Even if you're the worst person in the world to me, I'll always catch you."

Harley's eyes widened.

"Wow, uh," he stuttered. "Don't get all soft on me, Parker."

Peter laughed.

"I meant 'cause I'm, like, an Avenger and all that. It's my job, farmboy," he said, but he was becoming pink around the ears. Harley felt his face begin to get hot, too.

"Oh. Yeah. That."

Peter walked closer to Harley, holding his hand out.

"What do you say we get our asses out of here?"

Sitting up, Harley took his hand. Any hate he felt toward the kid was lost, for the moment, at least. 

"I like that idea."

***

They were still walking. It had to have been at least an hour, but Peter felt like they were just going in circles. Each floor looked exactly the same as the last one.

"I'm telling you, Parker, it's that fishbowl-wearing bastard playing his mind tricks on us. Give it up."

"No! We have to find a way out, Harley! There has to be a way." Deep down, though, Peter knew he was probably right.

"Lost and all alone, boys?"

" _ Fuck  _ me," Harley groaned.

"Don't worry. You'll find your way out soon enough. That is, if you live."

"You're not gonna trick us anymore, Beck!" Peter shouted, but the familiar goosebumps were running up his arms again and the room went black, clouds of lime-colored mist the only thing he could see.

"Harley!" He shouted.

The boy's hand met his arm and Peter jumped, turning to face him.

"I'm here."

"You know, Peter Parker, you're a hard kid to get to. I had to spend  _ days  _ hacking into Stark's system to find out who you really were. The other kid was just an added bonus from my perfect timing. Tony sure has a thing for taking in the problem kids, doesn't he? A sad, anxious little orphan with no parents to run to and a failure of a boy with a mom he never sees and a dad he never knew. Such an  _ interesting  _ dynamic, don't you think?"

Peter didn't want him to know. He didn't want Beck to know he  _ had  _ hurt him. He didn't to show him the pain he felt reliving Skip, the anguish as he screamed and ran towards his uncle, just a second too late, the desperation pulling at his gut when he watched Harry fall. He didn't want  _ anyone  _ to know how much it hurt him, today and every day, to watch the people he loved leave him, one by one, and to risk his life every single day to protect people. He didn't want Beck to know how it tore him down, making every step feel like it could be, like it  _ should  _ be, his last. He didn't want Beck to know because that would mean he had  _ won _ .

So he focused on getting Harley out. Whatever happened to Peter wouldn't matter. What mattered was that he got the other boy out safely. It's what he did. It's what he was meant to do.

"Try me, Beck," he muttered.

An echoing laugh rang through the giant, open space.

"As you wish, kid."

Then they heard the explosions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to post twice a week at least, since I'm school now
> 
> Hope u enjoyed this and are having a wonderful day! <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This… I think this is real."

"C'mon, Pete. You gotta give me something."

Harry sat hunched over his computer, his fingers furiously tapping on the keyboard as he scanned every camera feed within a ten-mile radius.

"Nothing! Seriously?"

He groaned, leaning back in his chair. Looking down at his notepad, which was filled with notes and scribbles on the different places he had tried, he realized there was only one good thing left to do. He got up, grabbed his backpack, and headed out of his dad's building to Stark Industries.

"He's not seeing anyone," the young woman at the front desk told him when he had arrived. "No appointments, kid. Sorry."

"Please, ma'am, I have to talk to him."

The lady shook her head, unwavering. Harry sighed, running his hand through his dark hair and tapping his foot against the ground.

"Can you at least tell him I'm here? I'm Harry Osborn. I'm friends with Peter Parker. My dad is Norman Osborn." 

The woman sighed, taking out a small tablet.

"I'll send a message, Mr. Osborn. If he doesn't reply in ten minutes, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Thank you so much," Harry replied, smiling gratefully at her. He moved to the corner of the room to sit on the small armchair.

Stark Industries was a huge, flat, stone building, situated at the edge of the city. Even though it seemed unassuming, the number of guards stationed around it was large and Harry found it hard to imagine someone just casually breaking in and stealing a kid.

After a few minutes, a robotic, female voice spoke above him, startling him.

"Hello, Jeanie. Mr. Stark asks that you send Mr. Osborn up immediately."

The lady nodded.

"On it, FRIDAY. Let him know he'll be up in a minute."

She handed a confused Harry a glowing card with the words VISITOR-CLEARANCE LEVEL 0 written on it in bold print.

"Scan this card in the elevator. It'll take you up to the second floor."

"Thanks."

And up he went, to meet with Tony Stark.

***

"Tell the kid to get up here."

Of course when Tony had heard Peter's friend was here, he needed to speak with him. He needed to know if he had found  _ anything  _ related to the boy. He bent over a piece of silver armor, welding into it and shaping it delicately, loud, angry music accompanying his work. Meanwhile, a giant computer screen continued to run through the data collected from the drones he had sent out earlier.

"Muted. Mr. Osborn has arrived."

Tony groaned with the fading of his music, looking up to see a black-haired, narrow-faced boy walk into the lab and look around, his emerald green eyes widening with amazement.

"Oh, uh, hi Mr. Stark," he said, catching sight of Tony. He held his hand out. "I'm Harry."

"You're Norman's kid, right?" He asked, to which Harry nodded hesitantly. "Y'know, I'm not very fond of your dad, to be honest. He and I haven't exactly gotten along over the years."

"Er… sorry, I guess. I'm not like my dad, though."

Tony nodded.

"Yeah, you don't look much like him." He bent back over the armor piece.

"Whatcha working on?" Harry said, eagerness in his tone as he bent over to look at Tony's creation.

"Nothing important. What did you come here for, kid?"

Harry cleared his throat.

"Well, uh… I've been looking for Peter. His aunt said he went missing a few days ago. I… I was wondering if you knew anything? Where he might be?"

Tony grunted, doing his best to maintain a cool, nonchalant expression, even though every fiber in his body was telling him to collapse at the mention of Peter.

"Wish I did, kid. I've been looking for him, too."

"Oh."

"And even if I did, what would you do about it, exactly? Strut up to his kidnapper and demand he give Pete back?"

"Well, not exactly… I have a plan, though."

"Uh-huh." Tony's hand slipped on the welding tool and he gasped, setting it down on the table. When he lifted his hand, his fingers were shaking. Turning, he rubbed against his palm and gave Harry a smile.

"Listen, Osborn, I'm working here. I know you want to help find Peter but you're just a kid and I've already gotten enough kids in trouble for one lifetime. The only reason I let you up here was because I thought you might know something about him. If you don't, I'd appreciate it if you stopped bothering me."

Harry opened his mouth, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Mr. Stark, I can help. I've been working on something and I can defend myself-"

Tony lifted his hands, trying to cut him off, but Harry reached into his backpack, pulling out what looked like a metal sword hilt.

"And I really think if we can find Peter, I can help you, well, you know, kick the culprit's ass and get him out of there."

The older man eyed the hilt. Despite not wanting to involve himself with any more vulnerable teenager than he had to, the object had caught his interest.

"So what is that, exactly?" He asked.

Harry smiled.

"I knew you'd say that."

***

The earth was rumbling beneath Peter's feet. At least three bombs had gone off so far, and the entire building was shaking. On top of that, he couldn't see anything except darkness and green fog.

"Peter, I think this place is gonna collapse!" Harley shouted over the groaning and trembling of the building. His hand had left Peter's arm and they were standing next to each other, not knowing what to do. If they ran, they risked falling into an even deeper pit. If they stayed, they could be crushed by falling stone.

_ Focus, Peter. Focus. _ He was trying to pull himself together. He was trying to block an image out of his head, the one where he was almost killed when the Vulture brought a warehouse down on top of him.

"Do you think this is just an illusion?!" Harley yelled again, his voice frantic.

"This… I think this is real." It just felt… different. Peter's sense was much more focused. He could tell exactly where the foundations were crumbling.

"God, I sure hope you're wrong."

"Harley, look out!" Without thinking, Peter felt himself leap forward, shoving the taller boy away from where he was standing. They both landed on the ground as a chunk of stone crashed down directly behind them.

"It's real," he breathed as he pulled himself off of Harley. "Yep, definitely real."

He didn't realize he had been shaking until Harley put a hand on his shoulder.

"We gotta run. There has to be some way out."

"Yeah, maybe, but I can't exactly  _ see _ ."

The floor's rumbling had ceased for the moment, but Peter knew it wouldn't be long before the entire building collapsed.

"We just run, then."

"And risk falling to our deaths?! No way."

"Fuck." Harley strengthened his grip on Peter's shoulder. "Listen. We're gonna run, and you're gonna tell me when shit is about to fall on us. Got it?"

Peter nodded, closing his eyes and deciding to go with the plan anyways.

"Okay. Let's go."

Harley took off and Peter grabbed his hand, and they ran. He didn't know where he was running to or how fast they were going, but he managed to keep his eyes closed and shove Harley to the side every time a piece of concrete or steel was about to come down and crush them. Unfortunately, their escape attempt was short-lived.

"No! No, god!" Harley screamed, kicking at the wall in front of them. There was no other way to go, and the wall was trapping them in. Peter could feel the rumbling increase. Suddenly, the illusions went away, and the boys could see the peril they were in. The ground to their right and left had been replaced by crumbling stone walls and pieces of steel beams. Above them, the cement structure was becoming riddled with deep cracks. Through the rubble, though, Peter could see an opening. A long, five-foot crack had been made in the wall, daylight streaming through. It felt like a beacon of hope to the boys in that moment.

"Go," Peter breathed. "C'mon, we gotta go!"

The ceiling was falling now, and Harley and Peter were scrambling over piles of debris. When they hit a wall, Peter climbed up and hauled Harley over the side, using his strength to dump him as far as possible from the collapsing column just a foot away from him. They had reached the opening, and the light was shining through it so brightly, and Peter was reaching for it-

Suddenly, the integrity of the beam above them gave way, and a chunk of stone fell towards the floor faster than they could get away from it. Harley shut his eyes as he ran, waiting for it to hit him. Waiting to be crushed to death underneath a cement rock.

_ What an ugly way to die, _ was the only thing in his head as he ran. But nothing ever hit him.

"Ah!"

When Harley turned around, he realized Peter was holding it up. Peter Parker was holding up a giant chunk of thick, cement flooring, his arms shaking uncontrollably as he lifted it just above Harley's head, so close it was skimming the top of his hair.

"Go!" Peter shouted, his face contorting into a pained expression. "Go, I don't know how long i can hold it, and once it falls it's all gonna come down!"

The piece Peter was straining to lift likely wouldn't kill him if he let it fall, but the crumbling remains of the building crashing down on top of it, breaking the sheltering chunk into pieces, definitely would.

"Harley, go  _ now _ !" Peter yelled, as his knees gave in and he began to sink to the floor.

This was his chance. Harley could leave right now. He was standing right in the opening, a cool breeze blowing against his back. He could get himself back out into the open air and just run, run until he found a safe place to hide. Run until he found a safe place to call for help. But he didn't. For some reason, he just couldn't move. Harley hesitated and, when he did, the building gave a last, loud  _ creak  _ of strain before the rest of its structure came apart, and Peter fell.

" _ No! _ " Harley screamed, even though he didn't register he had. All he knew was that his feet were moving him to the rubble pile inches in front of him. He clambered over the piles of jagged, broken stone, letting out a sharp cry when his hand slipped on a steel bar, red blood dripping down his palm.

"Peter!" He shouted, lifting up the pieces of cement he could manage. "Peter!"

Suddenly, he heard faint voices on the other side of the building, getting closer. He couldn't see anything because of the debris in the way, but he could hear them as they began to get within earshot.

"Think they're dead?" An unfamiliar voice, this one feminine and laced with uncertainty.

"Oh, I'm sure they are, but I'd like to see for myself." That was Beck. Harley could hear the pair picking their way up over the rubble mountain, but he knew it would be a while before they made it through to him, so he bent back down to continue heaving the rock and metal out of the way, groaning in pain and exhaustion as each lift sent tremors of strain through his muscles. He didn't know why he was doing this, really. If he was smart he would've taken his chance and left. Peter was probably dead, anyways. But something kept him going, fueling him with a rush of panicked adrenaline as he tried desperately to remove piece after piece of rugged cement, the voices of Beck and the women drawing ever nearer. Harley was beginning to give up when he reached down and felt something soft.

Looking down, he realized it was Peter's hair. The boy was laying flat on his stomach, his head and shoulders now exposed but the rest of his body hidden by the ledge he had been holding up. Harley's eyes widened, and he realized he might not be able to move the piece off of him.

"Peter," he whispered, tapping his head. "Peter, c'mon."

No response was given and Harley wiped the sweat off his forehead, breathing heavily.

"Shit. Okay. You better be alive, webhead."

He reached for a steel beam, broken and mangled at the tip, and shifted it towards him, causing it to make a painstakingly loud screeching noise as he dragged it over the rubble. He stopped, listening.

"You hear that?" The women asked. "Sounded like it came from over there."

_ Shit. _

Harley scrambled to grab the beam and lift it so it was upright, then he lodged the bent, broken end underneath the ledge Peter was trapped by. With a loud groan, he press all of his body weight against the other end of the beam and, to his relief, the cement began to rise.

"Peter!" Harley whispered as loudly as he could. Through the dim lighting, he could see the glow of flashlights mere yards aways from him. "Peter, come on!"

The kid didn't move. God, Harley hoped he wasn't dead.

He reached as far as he could with one hand, dislodged a smaller piece of stone and threw it under the ledge to force a gap between it and the ground. Then he let the beam drop and grabbed Peter. Luckily, he had lifted high enough to pull the boy out. Harley draped him over his shoulders, looked back to where Beck and the women were just barely coming into view, then reached for a handhold to lift himself out of the pit he had dug and ran towards the opening.

Harley ran until each pounding of his feet against the ground sent pain shooting up his legs and his lungs burned desperately for air, and he didn't look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love Harley saving Peter's self-sacrificial ass :))
> 
> Hope u are liking the story so far!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, can I borrow your phone?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long lol

Harley made sure he didn't slow down until he had to. When he finally did, he began to take in his surroundings. He was in the middle of the woods, which did no good in telling him where he was. He could be in the middle of Austria, for all he knew. His breath heaving, he lowered Peter to the ground, propping him up against a tree. He didn't know what had come over him or what was continuing to keep its hold on him, but Harley silently prayed the kid was okay. Peter was breathing, but a dark red stain crossed his shirt, a bloody line forming near his stomach. Harley pulled Peter's shirt off with some struggle and wiped away the blood using a clean part of the fabric, revealing a dark, ragged gash. He must've obtained it when the concrete ledge fell on top of him.

"Shit," Harley muttered. Any normal person probably would have died of blood loss by then, but the wound was showing signs of healing already, pink and raw skin forming around the edges. However, Harley knew better than to put his hope into that. Without help, Peter was going to die.

"Okay. C'mon, Harley. Find a phone. Call Tony. Get us out of here. I can do that. I can do that." Harley repeated the mantra under his breath as he pulled off his sweater and wrapped it around Peter's torso, pressing against the wound.

"Just stay alive a little longer, okay?"

A darker part of Harley's brain told him to just leave Peter there. Hell, the kid was probably going to die anyways; why should he waste his effort on him when Beck and his crew were probably trying to track them down already? But deep down, Harley knew why. He knew he couldn't leave Peter. The guy had saved his life multiple times and Harley cared about that. He cared about him, and he had already put him through too much to hurt him more. So he lifted Peter up, carrying his limp body on his back, Harley's hands gripping Peter's arms in front of him, and he walked.

He thought he might walk forever. He was beginning to think they would both die out here, lost in the woods in the middle of some unknown location. Tony would never know what had happened to them; nobody would. When he was about ready to give up, Harley heard the sound of cars. He picked up his pace as best he could, even though he was more fatigued than he'd ever been in his life, Peter's body seeming to get heavier and heavier as the kid's breathing became shallower and Harley's legs turned to jelly. But when the woods began to thin out and he could see the outline of cars ahead of him, he couldn't help but grin. He had done it. He was going to save them.

When he stepped out onto the road he realized he had ended up in a small shopping plaza. It wasn't much, but Harley sighed in relief, staring around at what appeared to be nothing more than a gas station, a tiny convenience store, and a disheveled diner situated around a small, empty parking lot.

"Stay here. I'll be right back." He set Peter down against a wall outside the gas station, talking to him as if he would answer. He was still breathing, and Harley thought it to be a miracle he was even still alive. More tenderly than he ever thought possible, he brushed Peter's damp, sweaty curls away from his eyes before opening the door to the convenience store.

He must've really looked like shit, because the middle-aged guy at the counter eyed him in complete disbelief, his gaze travelling up and down Harley's dirty, battered body. He rubbed his hands together only to feel a sharp stab of pain. He had forgotten entirely about the cut down his palm, which had clotted and was filled with dirt and cement dust. That was just great.

"Hey, can I borrow your phone?" Harley asked the man, who grunted, crossing his arms.

"How much you got for it?"

"I- I don't have any money. Please sir, I just need to make one call." He pleaded with the man.

The guy rolled his eyes, pulling out an old, cracked cell phone.

"If you try and run with it, I'm calling the cops, kid."

"Thank you, sir."

He dialed the first number that came to mind, walking away as the man eyed him suspiciously.

"Hello? Who is this?"

Saying Harley wanted to collapse to the floor and sob at the sound of that familiar voice was an understatement.

"This better not be you, Beck. When I find out what you did to my kids, you're so dead-"

"Tony. I- it's me. It's Harley." He choked out the words, and Tony stopped talking for a moment.

"I- is this fake? How do I know it's you?"

Harley pondered the question, listening to Tony's breathing.

"When- well, after we had first met, I kinda helped you out with a mission. I gave you that watch- remember? It was my sister's. Limited edition. And you told me to call you the Mechanic."

From the phone, Harley could hear Tony's breathing hitch.

"Harley? Kid?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me, Tony." Harley blinked away the tears forming at the edges of his eyes, his relief at the safety and familiar warmth of Tony's voice.

"God. God, I was so worried! I was so fucking worried about you. I didn't know what that fucker had done to you- is Peter there, too? Is he okay?"

"Um, well, Peter is… he's not so good. He's hurt, Tony. He needs help. Right now."

"Okay. Okay, Rhodes and I are going to leave right now. Where are you?"

"I-" Harley walked back over to the man at the counter. "Excuse me, where am I?"

"Pennsylvania. Just outside Milford." The man spoke with annoyance.

"Uh, okay, Milford. We're at a gas station. Um… is that good enough?"

"Yeah. We'll be there in a few. Make sure Peter hangs in there."

"Got it. Okay. I can do that."

The line went dead, so Harley assumed Tony had rushed out of the building to come and find them. With shaky hands, he gave the man his phone back.

"Thank you," he said, earning himself a disgruntled nod.

He ran back outside, turning to where he had  _ just  _ left Peter, but the kid was gone, nothing but a small puddle of blood and a red footprint where he should've been.

_ "Fuck, _ " Harley moaned, running his hands through his hair. "They found us. God, they found us. They found us-"

"Harley!"

He turned around to see a ghostly pale Peter stumbling towards him, a plastic bag in his hands.

"Shit, Peter-" Harley said, running forward just as Peter's knees buckled, both of them landing with a thud on the sidewalk. Peter's body was trembling, and he was breathing raggedly, each intake of air sounding damp and forced.

"What the hell? Why are you up? How the fuck are you even awake right now and where did you go? You can't just fucking run off like that- I- I thought Beck had found you-"

To his surprise, Peter let out a weak chuckle, leaning heavily against Harley's chest.

"Aw, did ya miss me?" He teased, and Harley shook his head, his annoyance at the kid flaring.

"You're a dumbass. If Beck had found you, it means he would've found me, too."

"Then why did you save my life? You should've… you should've left…"

"Tony's coming."

"Oh, goodie…" Peter breathed, but he was drifting back into unconsciousness, his brain swimming and his vision blurry and unfocused. He barely registered it when Harley pulled the bag out of his hands, opening it up.

"What- where did you get all this food?!"

"Diner… nice lady… thought you'd be… hungry…" That was the last Peter said before he fell limp, his mouth parted and his eyes closed. Harley shook his head.

_ This guy just doesn't stop. _

There was no point in trying to force-feed Peter because Tony was on his way, so Harley just shoved a few bites of lukewarm, buttery pancake in his mouth, chewing it slowly. He had never really liked pancakes, but, right now, this tasted better than anything he'd ever eaten in his entire goddamn life. There was a water bottle in the bag, too, and Harley downed it, realizing just how malnourished he was. Looking down at Peter, he lifted up his shirt and inspected the wound. The rare skin forming around it had helped to clot the bleeding faster, but Harley knew he wouldn't last much longer. Especially not after pulling that idiotic stunt to get them some food. He closed his eyes and prayed Tony would get to them before Peter was lost for good.

***

"Rhodey. C'mon. We gotta go.  _ Now. _ "

"Is it the kids?"

"Kids." Tony nodded. "Let's go."

Rhodes nodded, standing up immediately and rushing with Tony down to the entrance, where their suits met up with them.

"I'm locking in coordinates. I'm not sure how accurate they are, but I did my best." Tony was strangely calm, the quiet determination in voice surprising even him. All he could think about was Harley, and what sort of condition he and Peter were in. As they flew just below the cloud coverage, the man closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to calm the storm in his mind. He didn't know what he would do if Peter was dead when they got there. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"Tony, we're getting close," Rhodes said, after they had been flying for fifteen minutes or so. Below them, there was nothing but tree coverage. In front of him, however, Tony could make out a few buildings.

"Let's check down there."

As they began their descent, Tony realized the pair had reached a tiny, sorry excuse for a shopping plaza. He landed on the ground in the middle of the empty parking lot, stepping out of the suit as Rhodes followed behind him.

"You think they're here, Tones?" Rhodes said, and Tony nodded.

"I've got a hunch."

"Harley! Peter!" The colonel called, running towards the convenience store to look for them.

"Here! We're here!"

Suddenly, he could see the figure of two boys, Harley and Peter, leaning against each other on the sidewalk outside the store. Tony felt his entire body seem to light up with electricity at the sight of the kids, relief sweeping over him in a giant wave. Harley stood up, leaning Peter against the brick wall behind him and sprinting towards Tony. He looked exhausted, dark rims around his eyes, his hair matted and messy and his cheeks hollow, dirt caking his legs and the dust on his arms almost covering all of his skin. What scared Tony the most was the dark blood stain on Harley's shirt, some of it dried but some of it fresh and damp-looking, and the brownish-red streak extending down the entirety of his palm. Tony ran as fast as he could, crashing into the kid and wrapping his arms around him as Harley did the same, both of them breathing hard and fast. Tony placed his hand on the boy's hair, pushing him in closer and rubbing his back with his other hand.

"God, you're okay. Tell me you're okay."

"I'm okay, Tony. I'm okay."

"Thank god," was all Tony could manage, pressing his face into Harley's shoulder. "Thank god."

"Tony. You gotta come see this." Rhodey's voice came from in front of Tony and he looked up to see the man's worried expression. Harley pulled back.

"Tony, Peter- he- I tried to get him out as fast as he could but I-"

Tony ran forward and realized it was Peter who must've been bleeding, the stain on his shirt infinitely larger. Blood caked the kid's hands and he laid limp, dirt and dust all over his face and body.

"Shit. Rhodey, call Cho. We're gonna need her as soon as we get back."

"On it."

Tony leaned forward, pressing his finger against Peter's neck and letting out a sigh when he felt a pulse.

"Stay with me, Pete. Don't die on me yet."

Letting his suit envelop around him, Tony lifted Peter off the ground.

"Harley, Rhodey's got you. Hold on tight."

Harley nodded, latching on to Rhodey's suit. They flew high enough to make it over the tree line but didn't stray any harder, speeding as fast as they could manage back to New York City. It felt like hours until they finally landed, Tony asking FRIDAY to check Peter's vitals every few seconds. When they landed in front of Stark Industries, Helen Cho and her team were already waiting outside.

"Give him to us," she directed, and Tony reluctantly let them drag Peter out of his arms and onto a stretcher. He didn't miss the way Harley watched anxiously as they rolled the barely breathing boy away, Cho in the lead.

"Will… will he be okay?" He said, and Tony rubbed his back, trying to comfort him even though his stomach was churning in fear.

"I hope so." 

He took note of how exhausted Harley looked, his legs trembling beneath him.

"Shower and food for you.I'm going to have Bruce take a look at your hand, and then you need to sleep for at least a week."

Harley nodded, letting Tony gently guide him to the bathroom. Rhodey patted the kid's back before turning to Tony.

"I'll tell Happy to bring May up here. And I'll let the rest of the team know they're in the building."

Tony nodded, and they went their separate ways. He took Harley into the nearest empty bedroom, which happened to be Sam's from time to time.

"Okay. Go in there and take a nice, long, hot shower. I mean it, kid. As long as you want; I'm not concerned about my water bill. I'll leave some clothes on the bed for you. Meet me and Bruce in the kitchen when you're done."

"O-okay. Thanks, Tony."

The man wrapped him in another hug before leaving, and Harley let the feeling of safety wash over him. He felt safe, but he didn't feel right. He was still so scared. And he didn't know what would happen to Peter. But as he got in the shower and watched the layers of dust, dirt, and blood create a brownish stream as they flowed down the drain until, after multiple washes, the water finally cleared up and there were nothing but soap suds for him to stare at, he began to feel just a little bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in post-trauma mode now and there is still plenty of angst in store for all you lovely readers...


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But he's one of the bravest people I've ever known. To see the things he's seen, and do the things he does every day, and do his best not to fall under the weight of all of it."

When Harley woke up, he was caught off guard by the soft sheets and pillowy warmth surrounding him. He hadn't wanted to fall asleep. He had wanted to stay awake and avoid what nightmares he knew would ensue once he drifted off. But he hadn't been able to keep his eyes open for long, and the exhaustion in his body crept its way into his mind. He fell asleep on Peter's bed, in Peter's room, after Tony had sent him there when his hand had been looked at by Dr. Banner.

He sat up, closing his eyes again for a moment to get rid of the dizziness in his head.

_ Water. _ He was parched. Standing up on sore, tired legs, he padded out of the room and down the elevator to the kitchen.

"I don't know, Steve. I wouldn't bother him right now. He's with the kid."

"How's he doing?"

"The last time I saw him was this morning. He looked exhausted."

"I mean the kid."

"Oh- yeah, it's hard to tell right now. The healing factor kicked in, but he isn't waking up."

When Harley's face was made visible by the two men in the room they instantly fell silent.

"Uh… hey, bud."

Harley scanned their faces, looking at the larger one who had spoken to him first. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, and was insanely built.

"You're… Captain America."

He smiled.

"That's Steve, to you."

"And you… Falcon?"

The other man nodded, shooting Harley a smile.

"The one and only."

"Awesome," he mumbled, earning a small laugh from Steve. "Um… Tony? He's with Peter?"

"Yeah, the man's been stuck in there all day," Sam said, a hint of sadness in his tone. "He, uh, well, we're all a little worried about him."

Steve nodded.

"Yeah. He's a great kid. Been through a lot."

Harley was beginning to understand what they meant by that.

"How… is he?"

Sam shot Steve glance, and Harley could read that look from a mile away. It was the "should we really tell him that information? He's just a child." look, and he didn't like it.

"I can handle it. Really."

Steve sighed before looking down.

"Come get something to eat first."

Nodding, Harley obliged, pouring himself a glass of water and scanning the glass-doored cabinets, trying to decide on which cereal to choose from the seemingly endless possibilities.

"I'd recommend the corn flakes," Steve said, gesturing towards them. Harley made a face of disgust.

"Yeah, sure, maybe if I was like, eighty."

He instantly realized what he had said, and Sam let out a loud snort behind him.

"I- I mean, you know, not- to offend you or-"

"Don't worry about it," Steve said, shooting him a reassuring smile as Sam hopelessly attempted to repress his laughter. "I'm the old man of the team and everyone here knows it."

Harley settled on classic Cheerios, sitting down at the enormous island to eat.

"So, Peter."

"Yeah. Peter." Steve answered. "He lost a lot of blood."

"Figured that one out, too."

"Bruce said he should be waking up soon, but he might not because of something wrong with his mental health."

"What?"

Steve sighed, crossing his arms and leaning with his back to the counter.

"He might not… want to wake up. He's trying to, but his brain may be holding him back from doing so. Could be trauma-induced."

"So, like… he's keeping himself unconscious?"

"Sort of… it can happen when someone is in such a low mental state their body function decreases significantly and they can experience unhealthy side effects."

Suddenly, Harley didn't feel very hungry.

"Oh. But… he'll be okay, right? You guys are… figuring it out?"

"We're trying. We just need to give him time."

Harley nodded, looking down.

"Um… can I… go see him?"

Steve looked at Sam, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Yeah. Tony's with him now, and I think one of his friends is there, too. Go up to the third floor. Fourth door from the right."

"Thanks… Steve," Harley replied hesitantly, and Steve gave him a respectful nod in reply. He went back up the stairs to find the room Peter was in.

When he walked in, the first thing he saw was a middle-aged woman sprawled across the couch, fast asleep. That would be his aunt, Harley assumed.

Next to her, in a grey armchair, sat Tony, who had his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"Hey, kiddo. You sleep okay?" He said, upon Harley's entry.

"Yeah. Thanks, Tony."

He turned to see Peter in the middle of the room, lying still in a white-sheeted bed, an IV running up his arm.

"He's still out. I've been here since this morning and nothing." Tony said, and Harley felt like he could physically see the sadness and anxiety radiating off the man. He pulled up a smaller chair next to a table, sitting down beside him.

"Oh."

"Yeah. But he'll wake up. He needs to." Tony gave a small laugh. "The kid's too stubborn to die, if you ask me."

They sat in silence for a moment, then someone else walked into the room. He was Peter's age, tall, and had black hair and pale skin. He looked very familiar to Harley, but he couldn't quite place.

"Ah, there you are. Harley, this is Harry. One of Peter's friends."

_ Oh. Right.  _ He tried not to think about the green-misted image of Mysterio, holding this guy by the neck before dropping him into a dark abyss. "Uh, hi, Harry."

"Harley?" He said, raising his eyebrow. "Peter's said a lot about you. Especially considering he only knew you for a couple days before… everything." His tone was curt, not enough to be cold but definitely not warm, either. His green-eyed gaze on Harley was critical, and it led him to believe that things Peter had said about him had not been all that positive.

Tony leaned over, checking his watch.

"Unfortunately, Steve told me if I wasn't out of here and eating something by four, he'd come drag my ass out of here himself. And he could do that very easily, but I don't want to give him the satisfaction." He stood up, stretching out his arms. "You kids can stay here as long as you want. Just try not to wake May. She hasn't slept in days."

Harry nodded.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark."

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes after he had left, both boys sitting a few feet away from Peter's bed. Harley wanted desperately to break the silence, even though he hated being the one to start conversations.

"How… um… how long have you known Peter?"

Harry looked up at him, then down at where Peter was lying, unmoving.

"Since we were kids. He used to help me out a lot when my dad and I would fight." He gave Harley a pointed glance. "It was always his first response to help people. That's why, when he went missing, I assumed he had gotten himself into some sort of trouble trying to help you." Harry gave a small, bitter laugh. "It's cool that he's got superpowers and all, but the Peter Parker underneath the mask is the one who needs a lot of help."

"Why?"

Harry scoffed.

"I doubt you care."

_ Yeah, he deserved that one. _

"I know I was a real asshole to Peter. But… I-" he took a deep breath. "Well, I shouldn't have been. It… it wasn't fair."

"Wow. That sure sounds like a lot off your chest, doesn't it?"

"Okay, fine. Don't tell me anything else about Peter."

Silence fell again, until Harry spoke.

"Peter's one of the best, most genuine guys I've ever met." Harry shook his head. "But he's a mess. He's been through a lot. Seen a lot more than anyone should. Which is why it's so fucked he had to go through all that shit with Mysterio. I don't know exactly what happened, but I know it was bad."

"Yeah."

"And I'm gonna kill the bastard."

"What?"

Harry nodded.

"I'm gonna find him. And I'm gonna kill him for what he did to Peter."

_ Damn,  _ Harley thought to himself.  _ This kid has a dark streak. _

"Is that… uh… the smartest thing to do?"

"I don't really care."

"Oh. Yeah, I figured."

Harry stood up, brushing off his lap.

"I have to go before my dad throws a fit about me being gone all day." He nodded his head towards Peter. "Maybe try  _ not  _ to make his condition worse than it already is, yeah?" He said the words with sarcasm laced in his tone, and Harley got the message loud and clear. He didn't even try to defend himself. He knew it wasn't worth it.

"I'll do my best," he replied, avoiding Harry's eyes. After he had left, Harley was alone with his thoughts, save for the unconscious boy next to him and his aunt, snoring quietly on the couch.

Peter was annoying. Peter was tiresome. Peter was fully, completely, and overwhelmingly  _ irritating  _ to Harley, and he had been since he first laid eyes on him. That's what he kept telling himself, over and over and over until his brain felt like a pile of mush repeating the thought.

Yeah, Peter was aggressively a bother. But then why was Harley stuck here, in this tiny medical room,  _ waiting  _ for Peter to wake up? Why was he? Why was he?  _ Why _ was he?

Because, even though Peter was the biggest annoyance Harley had ever met, Peter saved his life multiple times even though he didn't like Harley, either. Peter cared enough to save him, and, in return, Harley couldn't even keep him protected.

Peter  _ cared  _ about Harley. More than his dad and his vanishing act ever would. More than his mom, who was never around, and his sister, who tried to avoid him as much as she could, ever would. Harley was like a disease, but, to Peter, he wasn't contagious. Even with as much of a dick as he had been. Even with the things he had said, the things he had  _ done,  _ and the ways the other boy had retaliated. And there was so much about him Harley didn't know. So why did he push him away the first chance he got? And why did he regret it now? So many questions, not enough answers. Not right now.

"Um, hello?"

Harley was ripped from his cluttered thoughts when he heard a female voice. The woman who must have been Peter's aunt had woken up and was staring at him questioningly, her eyes tired.

"Oh, uh, hi. I'm- I'm Harley."

Her gaze softened.

"Ah, Harley. You were the other boy, right? The one who was with Peter?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I was."

She nodded, her brown eyes full of understanding and caring. Harley had only just met this woman, but he knew he liked her.

"I'm so sorry." She looked down at Peter. "Thank you. I heard what you did for him."

"I- I didn't do anything."

"Of course you did. Without you, my boy would've… well, he might not have made it this far."

Harley shook his head.

"He saved my life first. Twice, actually."

She gave him a small smile, sitting up to rest her hands on her knees as she looked at him.

"It means a lot to me that you did that," she replied, disregarding his last statement. "I don't know what I would do without Peter."

_ Yeah,  _ Harley thought to himself.  _ That seems to be the trend around here. _

"It's good for him to have people in his corner, I think," she spoke softly. "He's been through a lot."

_ Heard that one, too. _

"But he's one of the bravest people I've ever known. To see the things he's seen, and do the things he does every day, and do his best not to fall under the weight of all of it."

Harley didn't know what to say to that. He opened his mouth, but he was entirely unsure of the right reply.

"I, uh… yeah, I've heard, um… what was your name, again?"

"May," she said, her tone still warm. 

"Well, uh, May, I really wouldn't be thanking me, if I were you. I didn't- there wasn't- I don't deserve that."

To his surprise, she laughed.

"You know what, Harley?" she said, leaning back against the couch. "You remind me of him. That's exactly what he would say."

"I…" now Harley was  _ really  _ confused. He stood up awkwardly. "Um, I think I have to go… see Tony now. Thank you, May."

"Of course."

As he left the room, he found his heart beating faster than it should've been. The combination of Peter's wonderfully nice aunt, and her warmth, had disoriented him. Not to mention the fact that he found himself fretful and worried over Peter's condition, especially considering he had only known the kid for a few days. He was so busy thinking he ran head-on into the back of Captain America.

"Oh, my god, sir, I'm so sorry-" he began to say because, even though Harley hated apologizing, it was  _ Captain America, _ for God's sakes, and he had already insisted him once this morning and if there's one thing you're not supposed to do it's disrespect the face of the American people himself, and God, what if Peter didn't wake up, what was Harley going to  _ do _ , and he needed to go talk to Tony and-

"Hey, kid, don't worry about it." He smiled. "And don't 'sir' me. Seriously. It's just Steve."

"Okay, um, Steve."

The man smiled.

_ God, everyone is so nice here. Why is everyone so nice here? _

"You look a little lost. Want to come sit with us for a bit?" He gestured towards a common area, where there were a few other people sitting and talking with each other. Harley recognized Sam from this morning, and he also saw a lady with fiery red hair who he assumed to be Black Widow, and Dr. Banner, and a stern-looking guy with a shiny metal arm.

Harley told himself to chill. He told himself to shut his mouth and simply nod at Steve, who kept his friendly demeanor and led him to the common area. Harley tried to keep his cool but he really wanted to pass out on the floor or go back to sit with Peter or… something. He didn't know. He just numbly let Steve tell him where to sit and he did.

"Hi. It's Harley, right?" Black Widow leaned over to him. "I'm Nat."

"Uh… hi…" Harley reached out to shake her extended hand. Everything was happening so fast yet his brain was going in slow motion and couldn't seem to keep up.

_ What a day. What a fucking day. _

He decided he could stay here, at least until something happened with Peter. He let the Avengers introduce himself to him, even the scary-looking one with the steel-clad arm who turned out to be really shy and sweet and was named Bucky. When he had finally begun to calm down and process everything, Tony ran into the room.

"Harley, you have to come with me  _ right now. _ "

"Uh, why?" Harley said, standing up immediately. Tony's tone of voice had startled him.

"It's Peter," Tony answered. "He's awake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm still here lol!! Sorry I haven't been so active with posting BUT I wanted to tell u all I've been working on something im super excited about with my friend and it starts today!! It's my Febuwhump 2021 project, which you can check out in my works or use this link: 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/29137563/chapters/71532030
> 
> tons of angst, whump, fluff, and more for anyone interested :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you like the story so far!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't have to physically save someone's life to be a hero."
> 
> "Oh, yeah? Then what do you have to do, webhead?"

There was only darkness. Peter was looking around, desperately trying to claw his way out of the hole he was in. He was suffocating, the rock caving in on him. As he continued to try and escape, dust filled his mouth and he coughed, pleading for someone to help him.

"Help me! I'm stuck!" He was shouting. "Someone, please!" His voice choked on the last word as he felt himself being dragged down, down, down, his arms reaching up but meeting nothing but the hard rock above him. He couldn't breathe anymore, the pressure all around him making his ears pop.

  
  


Then the dirt was fading.

"Peter?"

"Harley. Harley, help me!" Peter's face had become uncovered and Harley stood over him, leaning down. Everything was still dark, and Peter could just barely make out his face.

"Lift me out!"

Harley cocked his head to the side.

"Oh, poor little Peter Parker," he said, his voice suddenly menacing and cold. Before Peter's eyes Harley's face shifted, until it became the glowing glass orb that was Mysterio's helmet.

"So sad. So scared. Who's gonna come save you, now?"

"No- Harley! Where's Harley?!"

Mysterio just laughed, and rocks began to tumble forward once again, moving with a life of their own. Peter closed his eyes and screamed.

"Peter. Peter!"

Then Peter's eyes flew open and he heaved for air, gasping as to recover from his near-death experience, almost drowning underneath a pile of cold, hard rock.

"Thank god. Jesus christ."

Peter leaned to the side, his head pounding and his heart still beating faster than it should've been. When he was finally aware enough to take in his surroundings, he realized he was not, in fact, in a dark hole, being smothered by stone. He was in a soft hospital bed, the light around him almost blinding compared to the blackness from before.

"Peter, hey. Look at me."

He lifted his eyes to see Tony Stark, standing beside him. Harley was behind him, fiddling with his thumbs nervously.

"You were shouting. I had to wake you up, bud." Tony reached forward, his face distorted in surprise when Peter flinched away.

" _ No- _ "

"I- it's just me."

"You have to show him it's you," Harley said from the back of the room.

"What?"

"You have to… tell him something only you would know. He thinks he's still in there."

Peter's hand gripped the side of the bed so hard he could feel the metal of the frame creaking and bending in his grip.

"Uh, okay- well, remember that time we were on the flying donut thingy, and we met up with the Guardians and Star-Prince or whatever was trash talking Thor? And you very visually did not agree, and I know this because you  _ love  _ Thor, you have a t-shirt with his face on it and everything-"

"Okay, okay! That's enough."

Tony grinned.

"You with me, Pete?"

"Yeah. I- I'm with you. I think." He was still unsure, especially considering the fact that Mysterio had managed to pull up the things Peter had never even thought to tell anyone. In Ben's and Skip's case, he must've hacked into the old police reports. In Harry's case, he must've known to look at all of his and his friends' media. But there was no way he would've known Peter had gone to an entirely different planet. No way, he told himself. And as Tony leaned down to wrap his arms around him gently, he knew it was real.

"I missed you, kiddo."

"Missed you, too, Mr. Stark," Peter replied, his voice smothered by the fabric of Tony's shirt. Everything felt real to him now, but… he still didn't know. He didn't know if, at any second, the room would be gone, replaced by the telltale green mist that gnawed a pit of dread into his stomach.

"I'm gonna go grab you both some food, okay?" Tony said, pulling away. "Then we can talk."

When he had left, the first thing Peter did was lift up his shirt, feeling a soreness emanating from his torso. There wasn't even much of a mark there, anymore, just a faded pink scar.

"Damn. Wish I could heal like that. I've still got scars from kindergarten recess."

Peter looked up, startled by Harley's voice.

"Mind if I sit?" He asked awkwardly, pointing to the chair by the bed. When Peter nodded, he sat down, his movements abrupt and hesitant.

"They said you were having a hard time waking up."

"Was having a hard time getting out," Peter mumbled.

"Of there?" Harley said, and he didn't need to elaborate any more. Peter nodded again, leaning back against his pillow.

"I, uh- I'm-" Harley stopped, looking down. "Well…"

"Are you going home soon?" Peter asked, and for once it wasn't because he wanted Harley gone as soon as possible.

"I… I don't think so. Um… Tony said it might be best for me to stay here for a while. Where he can keep an eye on me."

"That's what he does."

"Yeah. He's changed a lot since we first met."

"When… when did you first meet?"

To Peter's surprise, Harley laughed softly, getting more comfortable in his chair.

"He, uh, broke into my house one night, actually. Needed to repair his suit to go kick some guy's ass. I went down there with a potato gun. Can you believe it? Me, an eleven year-old kid trying to take out some unidentified creep with a potato gun." He shook his head. "But I kinda helped him out a little bit, I guess. We've stayed in contact ever since then."

"That's really cool."

Harley shrugged.

"It's not as cool as being a superhero, or, you know,  _ actually  _ saving people."

"You don't have to physically save someone's life to be a hero."

"Oh, yeah? Then what do you have to do, webhead?"

"You just have to save their hope. You have to make them believe they can keep going."

Harley groaned, looking at the wall.

"What are you, a prophet?"

"No. Just a neighborhood guy who wants to do the right thing."

"Yeah, well, maybe you could do it a little less… obnoxiously."

"You're the one who asked."

Harley looked down again, stabbing the floor with the toe of his shoe.

"I guess I did."

"You're hot-tempered as hell, Harley Keener."

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

"It isn't."

"Good."

They were fighting again, but Peter knew deep down there wasn't hate in their words like there usually was. He didn't feel it from Harley, and he certainly wasn't expressing it himself. Looking over, Harley's face was still trained anywhere but at him, his dark brown hair in a messy wave on his head. It kind of looked like Peter's, but it was a lot less curly and he could tell he didn't usually put gel in it like Peter did.

"Breakfast for dinner, anyone?" Tony walked into the room, balancing two plates on his hand. "Apparently I'm a waiter now."

Peter took his plate of food, nibbling on a piece of bacon.

"What's up, Pete? You don't like bacon?"

"No… just not as hungry as I thought I'd be, I guess."

"Might be the soreness. I'll grab you some Advil."

"No, Mr. Stark… it's fine. Really." Yeah, it hurt, but Tony had been working his ass off to make sure the two of them were alright and Peter didn't want him to feel like he had to do everything for them. He could handle it for a while. Tony frowned, eyeing him.

"Okay, but you let me know if you need any."

"Yeah, I will."

"No, he won't," Harley muttered under his breath and Peter shot him an irritated glance. To his surprise, Tony just laughed.

"I know."

_ One point for farmboy. _

"I think I'll go eat in the kitchen. Parker's had enough of me." Harley stood up.

"Wait-"

"Huh?"

"No, I- I… I want you to stay. Please stay." 

Harley gave him a critical look, but Peter could tell he was considering it. For as much as Harley annoyed him, Peter felt… threatened when he wasn't around. He didn't know why, but it provoked him to try and get him to stay. Tony was looking in between them, obviously confused.

"Um… I think this is my cue to leave and go bother Steve about how he can't properly operate the smart TV." He walked out of the room, leaving Peter and his full plate of food staring at Harley.

"Sorry," he murmured under his breath. "You can go. I- I dunno why I said that."

Harley was still hesitating, his body turned halfway between the door and the chair.

"Seriously. Go, Harley."

"No. I'll stay."

Peter tilted his head back, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Uh… thanks."

Harley sat back down in the chair and began to eat his eggs. After a moment he looked over, noticing Peter was still staring at him and ignoring his food.

"You gonna eat, Parker, or are you gonna keep staring at me like a weirdo?"

"I'm not hungry."

Harley sighed, rolling his eyes.

"You need to eat."

"I will later."

"How about in an hour?"

"Deal."

"You're a nuisance."

"Thank you."

"Why did you want me to stay?"

"I…" Peter didn't really know what to say to that. "I like… I, um… it feels more real, I guess. Yeah." He tried to ignore the way his cheeks were getting hot. Luckily, Harley was still focused on his food.

"Hm." He nodded. "Makes sense."

"Thanks for saving my life," Peter blurted out abruptly. His ears were now most definitely turning a bright shade of pink.

"Least I could do, considering you let yourself get squashed by a building so I could get out of there."

"You weren't supposed to come back for me."

"Well, I did. And now you're alive. Yay. Deal with it."

"Why? You don't care about me."

Harley shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe I just wanted to be the hero."

Peter opened his mouth but Harley lifted his hand.

"I know, I know. Don't need to to save a life to be a hero, blah, blah, blah."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows.

"Hey," he said indignantly. "I was trying to be nice."

Harley laughed.

"You always are. Anyways, your friend Harry was here earlier."

"Oh, yeah? What'd he say?"

"Well, he kinda told me to stay out of his way, he didn't like me and, oh, yeah, I was a dick."

"Where's the lie?"

"If I didn't have respect for the sick and injured, I'd be punching you in the face right now."

"No, you wouldn't, farmboy."

Harley placed his plate on the nightstand by the bed, and the two boys sat in silence for a few moments. It might've been his imagination, but Peter could've sworn his enhanced hearing had zoned in on Harley's heartbeat. He wished it was closer, so he could feel it, too.

"Hey. Wanna do something that's probably really stupid and Tony's gonna kill me for?"

Peter looked up.

"He'll really, truly kill you?"

Harley smiled, showing his teeth.

"Seriously."

"Then hell, yeah."

"Alright. Get in."

He opened up the wheelchair on the side of the door.

"I can walk."

"Listen, Tony's already gonna kill me for this, so I'd rather be sure he buries me in a nice grave rather than feeding me to his goats or something."

Peter laughed at that, sitting up and obliging to slide into the wheelchair, wincing when a jolt of pain ran through him. It wasn't too bad, though, so he let it be.

Harley walked as quietly down the hallway as possible, rolling Peter in front of him luckily, it was empty, the light of the setting sun shining through the windows.

He went purposefully up the elevator to the top floor, opening a door. Peter felt a cool rush of air wash over him and he shivered, registering he was only in a pair of loose pants and a t-shirt.

"Right here's good." Harley placed the brakes on the chair and helped Peter out, setting him down on the ground.

"Uh, why are we up here, exactly?"

"Because this is the only place in the city you can catch a sunset as peaceful as this one."

Looking out over the horizon, Peter realized Harley was right; the sun's pink and orange tendrils reached out over the grassy area of land the facility was on, the buildings of the inner city silhouetted against the fading light. There was a slight breeze in the air, and he could hear the sound of the trees rustling below.

"It's really nice." He looked over at Harley, who had sat down beside him. "I never would've taken you for a sunset-watching type of guy."

"Why not?"

"Just… doesn't seem like you."

He leaned back, resting against the outside wall of the building. They were on a large, flat slab of concrete, big enough Peter could outstretched his legs and let himself relax. Despite the warmth of Harley's body beside him, he felt himself still trembling from the cold.

"A guy's gotta have something to do out in the country."

_ True,  _ Peter thought to himself. They fell quiet, the silence tranquil rather than tense for once.

"Why did you want me to see this?"

Harley frowned.

"I don't know, honestly. I think because, back home, I'd always have my sister to come watch it with me. Out here in the city, I don't really have anyone."

"Oh."

Harley moved his eyes to Peter. He was taller than him, even as they were sitting down.

"Someone's freezing his ass off."

"I'm fine."

Wordlessly, Harley took off his jacket and wrapped it around Peter's shoulders.

"Thanks."

The sun was getting lower by the minute, the vibrant pinks and oranges fading to softer blues and purples.

"You can be nice, Harley. When you want to be." Peter shifted his feet, and he was so close to Harley now he could feel his shoulder brushing against him. Thankfully, Harley didn't move away.

"Just… want to be the hero."

Peter smiled, his eyes scanning the night sky, picking out each individual star.

"Well, don't stop doing it now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ajskakhfbw ok but the way I had to go CRY after writing this... it's too much god I can't with these two they're gonna be the death of me (and they definitely have more pain to go through before this is over)
> 
> Will try to update again next week :))
> 
> By the way, just wanna say thank you for reading and thank you so much for all the freaking kudos you guys I certainly did not expect this many people like this story ahhh I love u all so much!! <333


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're lucky. For me, it feels like I lose another person I care about every single day. It's like anyone who's in my vicinity has instant bad luck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a hiatus to work on my other writing project but I'm back now yay!! I was so happy to just bypass all the school stuff i had to do today because I wanted to write something nice and long (ish) for you guys to make up for the absence lol. Thanks for being so patient, and I hope you like where the story is going so far!

"Hello?"

Harley's voice echoed around the empty room. It was cold in here, so cold he could see his breath fogging up in front of him.

"Hello?!" He repeated, louder this time. He spun around, looking for a way out.

"Harley!"

Whipping around, he realized his little sister was standing in front of him.

"Abby? What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here."

"I missed you, Harls!" She ran forward, but something wasn't right. When she tried to reach up and hug him he backed up quickly, his back hitting the wall behind him.

"No, don't!"

"What do you mean?" Abby tilted her head to the side, confused. There was something so… wrong here. It made Harley feel nauseous.

"Stay away from me."

"C'mon, Harley, you don't wanna hug your little sis?"

It was  _ there.  _ Creeping in from the darkest corners of the room, snaking its way across the floor and curling around his legs, dense and thick and the color of moss. The mist worked its way up his body, surrounding him. Abby still stood watching on as if nothing was wrong.

"Help me!" He shouted to her, reaching his hand out. "Pull me out!"

It was filling his nose, making him feel woozy. He began to sway side to side, his head spinning.

"You'll die here, Harley Keener," Abby said, the same green color in her eyes as the mist clouding up the room.

"You'll die here, and no one will miss you."

Just before Harley's head could hit the ground he splattered awake, thrashing around in his bed. Standing up, he ran into the bathroom and vomited, the smell of rancid bile hitting his nose.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself, his body shaking as he leaned over the toilet. When he was certain nothing more was going to come out of him, he cleaned himself up and went to go sit back in his bed.

It wouldn't leave him alone. He had spent every night the past week trying hard to stay up the entire night, to not let his exhausted eyes close because he knew where he would end up. His fists clenched the covers of his bed, reminding him of what was real. 

It wasn't enough. He stood up, putting on a shirt and leaving his bedroom to walk to the kitchen. When he entered there was already someone else sitting at the island, his head in his hands.

  
  


"...Peter?"

His head shot up, and Harley could clearly see the tear stains on his face and the way his eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"Harley! I- I didn't think anyone would be coming in here-" He wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked down, covering his face with his hands.

"I just… couldn't sleep."

"Me either," Peter replied, laughing bitterly. "Everytime I close my eyes, it's like I'm back there. I don't even fucking know what's real anymore." He lifted the glass of water in front of him to his lips.

Harley came and sat down across from him, letting the silence stretch out for a while before he spoke.

"Did you eat?"

Peter groaned.

"What do you care?"

"I don't know, I just noticed you didn't eat anything yesterday."

"You noticed that?"

Harley looked down, closing his eyes for a second.

"You should eat something. Or else you're really gonna be putting Tony through it."

"I'll eat when I want to."

Sighing, Harley shook his head.

"Whatever."

Silence. Then Peter stood up.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting something to eat."

"Oh."

"Want some wheatcakes?"

"Some what?"

"Wheatcakes. My Aunt May makes them for me a lot. They're like pancakes, but healthier."

Harley scrunched his nose up.

"Sounds gross."

Seeing Peter's fallen expression, though, he felt that he should be nice.

"But… I guess I'll try it."

Peter smiled, working his way around the kitchen and pulling out ingredients.

"Do you and your Aunt bake a lot?"

"She kind of sucks at cooking anything except these, so no. One time, she tried to make a meatloaf but she ended up setting the stove on fire." He began mixing things together, and Harley could smell the eggs and flour. "What about you?"

"My mom used to cook a lot, when she had time to. I do most of the cooking now for me and my sister."

"What does your mom do?"

"She works… at a diner."

"Oh." Peter said it in a way that signaled to Harley he knew it was a touchy subject. He continued to make his food silently, turning on the stove.

"My parents died in a plane crash when I was little, so I never really knew them," he said abruptly. "It's just me and my aunt now."

"You don't have any other family?"

"I… I had an uncle." He stayed turned around, facing the stove. The sound of butter sizzling on the pan filled the room. "He… isn't around anymore."

"What happened to him?" Harley asked, then instantly regretted it as Peter tensed up. "Shit, sorry. Don't answer that."

"No, it's just… I've never told anyone about what happened to him before."

"Well, it's probably better if I'm not the first."

Peter laughed softly, busying himself with pouring batter onto the pan.

"You're probably right. It's just that… I don't know. Shit's so weird for me right now. It's like I'm living outside of my own body when I'm around everyone except you. I didn't even know what to say to Harry the other day. All I saw was him when he… when we were in there. And I freaked out."

"Except me?"

"Don't make me say it again."

Harley smiled despite how hard he tried not to.

Peter turned back around after a few minutes, a plate in his hand.

"Here," he said, handing it to Harley. He took a bit of the pancakes. "How is it?"

"Not as bad as I expected, Parker," he said, chewing them slowly. They were actually really good, but Harley didn't want to admit it. Peter smiled.

"Good. I added extra sugar, because I knew you'd be a baby about it if I didn't. Syrup?"

Harley nodded, taking the bottle from Peter's hands. He sat down across from him again, taking a bite of his own wheat cakes.

"Hey… do you want to maybe stay with me?"

"What?" Harley nearly choked on his food, looking up at Peter. "I- I mean, what do you mean by that?"

Peter stared down, embarrassed.

"I guess if you just- if you wanted company- or- or something."

"Oh. Uh… I- I don't think so."

"Oh. Okay."

The truth is, Harley would've liked to have someone with him. He didn't like being alone, but he also couldn't stand the thought of Peter seeing him a mess, having some nightmare or panic attack. He just didn't want it to happen. Harley was the one who always had control. Who always had at least one hand on the wheel, who knew where he was going. He wasn't planning on letting anyone know that his hands couldn't even _find_ the wheel at this point, his car skidding off the road and landing in a ditch somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

Peter didn't seem so hungry anymore, or relaxed.

"I'm gonna go back to bed," Harley decided, standing up and putting his empty plate in the sink. "Thanks for the wheat cakes." He said it gruffly, more bluntly than he had intended, but he didn't pause to watch Peter's expression as he walked out of the kitchen. On the way out, part of him was screaming for him to turn around and apologize, but it was so hard to apologize to Peter for anything. He had tried to multiple times over the past week, but the words just… never came out.

Walking back to his room, he closed the door. Alone again.

***

_ What was that? It seemed like were having… fun. _ Peter shook his head, discarding the pancakes he had only taken a couple bites out of.  _ Then I just couldn't keep my mouth closed. I had to go and ask him that. Nice one, Parker. _

Peter hated being alone at night in general. Yeah, maybe it was childish, but he felt more comfortable with a nightlight on or waiting up for May to come home from work. Being alone, in the dark, by himself, was a recipe for disaster.

He found himself quietly walking through the hallways of the compound, passing room after room, circling his way around the gigantic training area, before ending up back in the kitchen. By that time, it was almost four in the morning. He figured it'd be better to stay up until everyone else started getting out of bed. He sat down at the island and waited, flipping through the pages of a magazine.

The next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by gentle hands on his shoulder.

"Pete, you okay?"

"Huh?"

Peter looked up. Sunlight streamed through the windows and, when he checked his watch, he realized it was almost eight.

"You weren't in your room and nobody else is awake yet."

"Oh… hey, Harry," Peter yawned, stretching his arms. "Yeah, sorry. I wasn't able to sleep last night."

"Why not?"

"Just… thinking things. You know?"

Peter didn't have the heart to tell Harry he was scared to go to sleep because, of the many things he didn't want to relive, watching his best friend die was one of them.

"How're you doing?" Harry asked awkwardly, reaching his hand out to pull a seat out from under the counter. He sat down next to Peter, gazing at him with wide, green eyes.

"I'm… I'm doing alright."

Peter had the answer rehearsed by now, from the many times May had nagged him about it. He just didn't feel like he needed everyone in his life to worry about him. He already had an entire team of enhanced superheroes watching his every move. Unfortunately for him, Harry saw right through it.

"I'm gonna take that as a no."

"I'm fine, Harry. Really."

"Is that other kid bothering you? Because you know, my dad has really high-level security in our apartment if you want to come stay with us-"

"He's fine, H. Seriously." Peter leaned against his hands. "And Mr. Stark wants me to stay here, anyways. I think he's paranoid."

"Sure sounds like it."

"He just wants to make sure nothing happens again," Peter replied, instinctively coming to Tony's defense.

"Yeah. Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it." Harry seemed a little on edge, and who could blame him? Peter wasn't acting like he usually did.

"I know you didn't."

"So, uh, do you wanna do anything?" Harry pulled off his backpack. "I brought some movies, but I'm sure they already have everything here." He held up a bag. "I also brought your favorite. Skittles!"

"Did you-"

"Yes, I picked out all the green ones." Harry smiled, nudging Peter's shoulder. "Weirdo."

"Ah, you're the best, H."

"I know," Harry said, looking to see if Peter would shoot him a smile in reply. He didn't, but he knew Peter was grateful.

"You can pick the movie, if you want," Peter said. "I'm just gonna go to my room and change. The movie room is just through there." He pointed, and Harry nodded, standing up. Peter walked quickly back to his room, still trying to rub the grogginess out of his eyes, and ended up pausing right in front of Harley's door.

After their disagreements last time, Tony figured it'd be better to keep them separated. Peter knocked softly.

"Harley?" He said softly. "I- I don't know if you're awake, but Harry and I are going to watch a movie, if you'd like to join."

There was no answer. Peter figured he was either sleeping or still mad about what he had said to him last night.

"Okay, well… there's always extra room if you decide you want to."

When Peter had changed and walked back, Harry handed him his bag of candy, but he didn't feel so hungry anymore. He stashed it away, hoping Harry wouldn't notice.

"So, uh, this guy came in and asked me if I had seen his ants? And- and I didn't really know what he was talking about, so uh-"

Peter waved his hand.

"That's Scott. He uses ants to do some things he's too lazy to do-"

"Like, he mind controls them or something?"

"Yeah, basically." He shrugged, disregarding Harry's skeptical look. "You get used to anything around here, after a while."

"Okay…"

"What are we watching?"

Harry lifted up a disc.

"I figured you wouldn't be into anything super freaky right now, so I decided on Jurassic Park."

"You and your dinosaurs."

"Hey! Leave me and my dinosaurs alone!" Harry exclaimed, crossing his arms. Peter leaned back against the couch as Harry put the DVD into the tray and slid it in, and the movie began playing.

About halfway through, Peter looked over to see that someone was opening the door to the movie room.

"You kids doing okay in here?"

"Yeah, Mr. Stark."

"Oh. It's you, Osborne," Tony said, but it wasn't with dislike in his voice, rather surprise. "I thought you were Harley."

"I think he's still sleeping," Peter said.

"I checked his room, and he wasn't there."

"And he's not in the lab, either?"

"Nope. I've been looking everywhere for him." Tony scratched his head. "FRIDAY told me he left his room a half hour ago and she wasn't able to see where he went."

"Maybe he just took a walk."

Tony nodded, but he didn't seem sure of it.

"Yeah. I'll see if he comes back soon. Hey, when was the last time you ate something?"

"I ate at like one in the morning. With Harley."

Peter ignored Harry's furtive glance.

"Okay. Make sure you eat a lot, bud."

"I know."

"You kids let me know if you need anything."

"Thank, Mr. Stark."

Tony left the room, probably to keep looking for Harley, and Peter turned his attention back to the TV, but he couldn't disregard the itchy feeling on the back of his neck.

_ Where was Harley? _

Maybe he was just out getting some fresh air, but Peter felt an uncharacteristic pang of worry for the other boy.

"Okay, that's enough of that," Harry groaned, pausing the TV. "You're bouncing your leg up and down at an alarmingly fast rate, and I know what that means. You're stressing."

"I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"I- I think I just need to go help Mr. Stark."

"What  _ is  _ it with you and that guy, anyways?" Harry sighed. "I thought you hated him."

"That doesn't mean I don't care about his safety. You know how I am, Harry."

"Yeah, yeah I know. You always have to be the hero."

"That's not what I mean."

Harry stood up, pulling his backpack.

"Whatever, Pete. You go find him. I'll just go home and leave you to do the hero stuff. Like I always do."

"Harry, please-" Peter stood up, trying to block him from the door, but he brushed past, staring down at the groutdoor as he walked by. "Don't! I need you."

"Do you?" Harry asked. "Because it seems to me that you're all set. You won't even talk to me about what's going on with you. I thought we moved past this after you told me you were Spider-man, but I guess we haven't."

Peter turned to try and yell something to Harry, but he was already gone.

_ I do need you, Harry,  _ Peter thought, chewing on his bottom lip to stop himself from crying.  _ I'm just too scared to admit it. _

***

"Harley, you have to run! You have to go!"

Harley couldn't do it.

"I won't leave you again!" He shouted, but a blast of wind and dust threw him backwards. Peter stood in front of him, struggling to hold up the wall that was about to crush them both. His legs were visibly trembling and his face was contorted in an expression of anguish as he put all of his energy into holding up the weight on his shoulders.

"I'm gonna help you!"

" _ Go! _ " Peter shouted again, closing his eyes. Harley leaped forward.

_ Too late. _

The wall fell, and Harley watched as Peter disappeared.

"No!"

He couldn't do it again. He couldn't lose again. He couldn't be the one left standing.

That wasn't how it was supposed to work.

"Let me out of here!" He shouted, covering his head with his hands. "Let me  _ out _ !"

And then he was back, the dirt and leaves all too real and familiar in his hands. He was crouching on his knees, trees surrounding him, sunlight flickering through the leaves and casting light shadows on his face. He stared up, shading his eyes with his hand.

_ How did I get here? _

He vaguely remembered a knock on his door, followed by Peter's voice. A few minutes later, he was out of his room, walking down the hallway and all the way at the door, but not before pausing near the movie room to listen to Peter and his friend's hushed conversation. Then he was out, ignoring the way the door beeped when he opened it, and stumbling to find tree coverage. He always felt better when he was outside. Why wasn't it working now? Then he must've blacked out, because now he was here, dirt covering the front of his pants and the cacophony of tweeting birds and rustling leaves making his ears feel like they were going to pop.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the first number that came to his mind.

"Harley?"

The little girl's voice almost made him sob audibly. He bit down on his finger.

"Hey, Abby."

"Hey! Thank god you called. I was so worried about you. They said you went missing and mom and I were so, so scared-"

"Abby, I- I need you to tell me something."

"What?"

"I need you to tell me something only you'd know."

How much longer would he have to ask that question before he could be sure he was back in reality?

"Um… what, like when I ate your ice cream because you decided to give away my limited edition watch to some rando?" She sounded skeptical, but a wave of relief swept over Harley.

"Yeah. Exactly like that. Thanks, Abbs."

"No problem. How are you?"

"I just want to hear you talk." Harley sat against the trunk of the tree. "Please. Just… tell me anything."

Abby hummed for a moment, thinking. Harley was thankful she didn't question him.

"Well, school's going pretty great. I kinda have a crush on this guy… he's really cute but I  _ promise  _ he's nice. And I passed my science test yesterday!"

"That's great."

"Yeah."

"How's mom?"

"Working. I barely see her anymore, but she needs to work to keep up with the taxes. She says she's fine, but I don't think she is." Abby sighed. "I miss you, Harls."

"I miss you, too, Abbs." Harley rubbed his eye with his hand. "I can't believe you're gonna be in sixth grade next year."

"Me either. I heard middle school sucks."

"Oh, it does. Take it from a guy with experience." Harley gave her a small laugh. 

"Are you coming back soon?"

"I… I don't know, Abby." Harley sighed. "It's safer for me here. At least for now, while the bad guys are still on the loose."

"Are you gonna take them down?"

"How can I- I'm not a superhero, sis."

"You can be if you want to. Anyone can be. You can be like Spider-man!"

"Oh, yeah? What's so great about Spider-man?"

Abby sighed, like the answer should've been obvious to Harley.

"He's just so awesome. No matter how many times someone tries to take him down, he always comes back. And he has the coolest powers  _ ever _ !" Abby paused. "If you ever meet him while you're in New York, tell him I think he's great!"

Harley smiled softly.

"I will. It's nice to talk to you, Abbs."

"It's nice to talk to you, too. Stay safe, okay?"

"You sound like Mom."

"I'll tell her you called. She'll be really happy to know you're okay." There was a shuffle. "I gotta go. My friend is here for a study day. Call me later!"

"Definitely."

"Love you, Harls!"

"Yeah, I love you more."

When Abby had hung up the phone Harley closed his eyes for a second, breathing in and out slowly. The noise of the forest had turned into less of a cacophony and more of a soothing static. Harley felt better.

Then his phone rang again, and he felt another pang of anxiousness.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Harley. I was just… wondering where you were."

"I'm just getting some air."

"Oh… okay. Where? Mr. Stark and I have been looking-"

"Why does it matter?" Harley said bitterly. "Jesus. I can't even get a minute to myself. Am I just  _ that  _ much of a liability to you, Parker?"

"What? No, that's not what I meant-"

Harley knew it wasn't. He just felt frustrated at himself, and he was taking it out on Peter.

"Leave me alone."

"Harley, I'm sorry."

"I don't care. I'll come back when I want to." He bit down hard on his lip.

_ Don't say it. _

"Do you really have to be so fucking clingy all the time?"

_ Fuck, I said it. _

He instantly regretted the words that came out of his mouth. Truthfully, Harley  _ liked  _ it when Peter cared about him, or wanted to be near him. But… he couldn't have that. He couldn't let Peter get close to him. If he did, Peter would see what a mess Harley really was. And he'd hate it.

Peter stayed silent, and Harley knew he must've hit a nerve.

"I'm sorry," Peter said quietly.

_ It's not your fault. Don't apologize. _

"No, I-" Harley began, but he couldn't find the words. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll let Mr. Stark know."

There wasn't worry in Peter's voice anymore, only hurt. Harley hung up the phone and rested his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes to keep himself from falling apart right there.

When he finally got up and walked back to the compound, he was met with a stern-looking Tony, his arms crossed in front of him.

"Care to tell me where you've been for the last three hours?"

"I'm fine."

"That doesn't matter." Tony shook his head. "Look, I really don't care if you go out. Just please let me know. I'm more worried than usual about you two. Peter's been acting more and more off, and I think it's because of his friend, and now you decide to disappear on me without any warning-"

"Tony, I messed up. Sorry. I should've told you. I know you're only worried because you care."

If there was one thing Harley hated as much as looking like a mess, it was disappointing Tony.

"Please just let me know before you run off somewhere." Tony lifted his hands. "And maybe be careful around Peter. He and his friend had an argument, and I don't think it went so well for him."

There it was again. The "take care of Peter", the "give Peter what he wants".

"Peter isn't helpless, you know," Harley pointed out. "He can take a few hits."

"Yeah, I know. I just worry about him because of how much he's been through. For a sixteen-year old kid, he's seen more than anyone should ever have to in a lifetime. He runs on his last thread sometimes."

Harley had never really thought about it that way. He mostly just assumed everyone treated Peter like a child because, well, he  _ was  _ a child. Then again, so was Harley, and no one was bending down to tie his shoes for him.

Maybe there was a reason Peter didn't like to be alone.

He walked to his room, hesitating at the door. He chewed on his bottom lip, looking down and squeezing his eyes shut before knocking twice.

"Who is it?"

"Um… it's Harley."

"What do you want?"

"Tony told me I should bring you some food. So I did."

"I'm not hungry."

Harley sighed.

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Can you just open the door?"

There was silence for a moment, then a click as the door slid open and Harley hesitantly stepped in. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark, the only light coming from the small lamp by Peter's bed. He was curled up in the corner, rifling through stacks of paper. Harley stood in front of him, holding a plate of lasagna.

"Clint made it."

"Clint sucks at cooking."

"It's frozen. From a package."

He set it down by Peter, who didn't look up at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, because  _ now  _ you care, right? Why can't you just make up your mind?" Peter wiped his nose. "Sometimes you're actually  _ nice,  _ and then other times you're totally rude and aloof."

Harley clenched his hands together, sliding down the wall to sit by Peter, who continued to sort papers into piles. Looking closer, Harley realized they were photographs.

"I just wanted to say…"

"Say what?" Peter prompted, when Harley trailed off. "Don't worry. I get it. I'll keep my distance."

"No! That's not- I don't-" Harley shook his head. "Look, Peter, I'm not the best at this stuff. I don't have many people I'm close to, let alone friends." He shrugged. "I'm just… I don't know."

"Scared?"

"No. I'm not scared."

"It's okay to be scared."

"I know." Harley kicked at the ground with his foot. "It's just… no one has ever listened to me. So why should I start talking now?"

"Because you  _ do  _ have people that care about you. You  _ do  _ have people who will listen to you." Peter sniffed. "You're lucky. For me, it feels like I lose another person I care about every single day. It's like anyone who's in my vicinity has instant bad luck."

"That… I get that." Harley nodded. "Yeah. I get that."

"You should've told me."

"Why, Parker? To tell me all about how I don't deserve to complain? I'm just the jerk that picked on you."

"No. So I could've told you I understand. And I want to listen to you."

Harley looked up, and now Peter was gazing at him, his eyes searching.

"You… what?"

Peter nodded.

"I don't hate you, Harley," he said softly.

"I- I don't- hate you, either," Harley stuttered, his cheeks burning with heat. Peter looked back down at his photographs.

"Good to know."

"You gonna eat that?" Harley asked, pointing to Peter's food.

"In a bit."

"You better," Harley said, standing up to leave. "Or Tony's gonna kill me."

"And the problem with that is…?"

"Shut up, webhead," Harley said, but it wasn't without the beginnings of a smile on his face. That is, until he felt a strange ringing in his ears.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Peter tilted his head, confused. Harley shook himself, trying to blink the spots out of his eyes. When he looked at Peter, the surrounding room disappeared.

"No…"


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry, okay?! I’m sorry I care so much!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No it wasn't an illusion y'all hahaha I'm sorry Harley's just got issues

“What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know! We- we were just talking, and then he just- he- I don’t know, he just passed out and he started yelling something, and I panicked-”

“Okay, kid, breathe. Just breathe.”

Peter shook his head.

“I can’t- Mr. Stark, I can’t breathe-”

“Peter. Look at me.”

Peter locked eyes with Tony, who had his hand on his shoulder.

“In and out. Come on, do it with me.”

He showed Peter what he meant, inhaling slowly through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. Peter closed his eyes, trying to copy the pattern.

“Good. Good. You’re getting it.” Tony rubbed Peter’s shoulder comfortingly, helping him sit down outside of the room Harley had been taken into. “You know who taught me how to deal with panic attacks?”

“Who?”

“Harley.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I might’ve lost out on myself, if he hadn’t been on the phone to talk me through mine.”

Once Peter had regained control over his breathing, he leaned back, covering his face with his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“No need to apologize.” Tony sat down next to him. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m not really sure. We were talking, and- and then he sorta looked pale, and I realized he was gonna pass out so I stood up to catch him, and he wouldn’t wake up. He just started- well, he just seemed really freaked out. He was shouting things and trying to get out of my grip.”

“What was he saying?”

“It was hard to tell. I think I heard his sister’s name once or twice, but most of it wasn’t understandable. I- I think it might’ve been my fault.”

Tony stared at Peter, confused.

“Why would you say that?”

Peter shrugged.

“I was being- I don’t know- maybe I overloaded him. Maybe I talked too much, and it made him feel sick, or I-”

“Okay, Pete. Stop.” Tony held up his hand, sighing. “This has nothing to do with you and I know that. You don’t have to look for excuses to blame yourself all the time.”

Peter looked down at his hands.

“But- there was that whole thing with Harry and-”

“Don’t think I didn’t hear what went down with your friend,” Tony cut him off, raising his eyebrow. “You wanted to take care of someone else, and he looked at that in a selfish light.”

“He didn’t mean it like that. I kept so many secrets from him-”

“And he forgave you for those, didn’t he?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

Tony shook his head.

“Kid, listen. Sometimes people can’t see your real intentions because they feel insecure about themselves. You were just trying to take care of someone, and he used that against you. It’s not fair, but people make mistakes. If he really does care about you, he’ll be back here in a couple days with an apology.”

Peter thought about it for a moment. It was true; he and Harry got into arguments sometimes over little things. But this felt… different. Harry never attacked Peter because of his morals, or his enhanced abilities. He sounded… jealous.

There wasn’t much time for him to ponder that, though, before Bruce walked out into the hallway. Tony stood up instantly.

“What’s the status?”

"It's hard to tell. He's still out like a light." Bruce scratched at the stubble on his chin. "I think it's trauma-induced hallucinations. Especially because of… his case, it might just be his brain reacting to the fact that he still feels like he's stuck in there. Like… the things around him aren't real."

_ I know the feeling,  _ Peter thought.

"Has he been sleeping and eating regularly?"

"As far as the sleeping goes, I don't know." Tony lowered his voice in a way that indicated to Peter he felt that the boy shouldn't be hearing this conversation, and part of Peter was tired of the fact that all the adults in this place seemed to tiptoe around him, even before the incident. He was like a ticking time bomb, and everyone was waiting for him to go off. "I think he's been eating fine, though."

"Okay, well, we should just keep a close eye on him until he wakes up."

"I can stay with him," Peter found himself saying, unable to control his nagging impulse. Bruce and Tony both looked over at him, surprise in their eyes.

"Really?" Tony asked, as if he wasn't sure if Peter was being serious.

"Yeah. I've got nothing better to do, anyways. I'm stuck in here."

He didn't mean to be blunt with his words, but he knew by the way Tony's eyes grew soft that he felt bad for keeping Peter cooped up in the compound.

"I'm sorry, bud. I know you want to be out patrolling."

Peter shrugged.

"It's not your fault."

"If you want to stay with him, that's fine with me," Bruce said. Peter nodded, entering the room where Harley was laying, looking almost peaceful in his bed. You almost couldn't tell that only a little while earlier, he had been having a complete meltdown, a terrified Peter trying to comfort him as he thrashed in his arms, uttering things he didn't understand.

"Hey, Harley."

Peter spoke softly as he sat down beside him.

"Uh, I thought maybe I'd keep you company. You know, since we agreed we didn't hate each other anymore. I know, it's clingy. I'm sorry."

Peter looked around to make sure Tony wasn't still standing just outside.

"I just get worried. Feels like everyone I get close to ends up in danger. But you already know that."

He exhaled slowly, tapping his foot against the ground. A bit of Harley's wavy, brown hair had fallen into his face. Peter reached over and brushed it away gently, his hands moving in an almost robotic motion.

"I guess I just get attached to people really quick because I don't have many chances to stay attached. Either that, or I realize I made a mistake in trusting them."

Peter bit his lip and looked down, suddenly feeling hot and nervous.

"Which is why it's hard to trust people sometimes. But you… I trust you. I think. No, I definitely do."

Peter didn't know what Harley would say if he was awake, but it didn't really matter.

"I think you're pretty great, actually. I've never really thought about… love before. God, that's stupid. But- but there's something about you that just makes me feel so… good inside. Anxious, too. And yeah, you can definitely be a dickhead," Peter remarked, smiling to himself. "But it feels like you're the only one that I'm always confident is real. And it feels good, to know that you're real. And… well, um… I don't know. You make me feel something I've never really felt before, even if I don't really want to feel it." He took a deep breath, clenching his fists and unclenching them slowly. "Shit, I'm just so worked up over you."

_ There. It's out. _

Harley would never, ever know it, not as long as Peter lived, but he just had to get it off his chest. 

"If you were awake right now, you'd probably punch me in the face," he said. "But that's okay. I probably deserve it, anyways. I was a dick to you, too. I'm trying to be better."

Peter stayed with Harley for a while, watching videos on his phone or just staring at the boy sleeping, taking in every aspect of his face. He had a few, light freckles dotting his nose, which Peter had never really noticed. He liked them.

“Peter?”

He looked up, realizing Harley was staring at him, blinking the drowsiness out of his blue eyes.

“Hi.”

Harley sat up, brushing his hair back with his hand. Peter stayed sitting, hesitant.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah.” Harley shook his head, groaning. “How much of that did you see?”

“Er- all of it.”

“Of course,” Harley muttered. “That’s just great.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, it is. I don’t need you to be in my business.”

“It isn’t… being in your business. I just got worried about you.”

“So you called Tony?” Harley retorted, and when Peter nodded, he sighed. “Of course you called Tony.”

“Why are you so angry about this? I just wanted to make sure you were okay-”

“I’m fine.”

“You obviously weren’t-”

“Well, I am now! What is it with you and your damn savior complex?”

“It’s not that, I just-”

“You just what? Always want to be the rescuer? Always want to be the one who gets to prove yourself?”

Peter winced. Harley had hit too close to what Harry had said to him earlier.

“It is  _ not  _ like that, Harley! You literally passed out and I panicked because I was  _ worried  _ about you, and I had good reason to be! Why are you so scared to be taken care of? Why are you so scared for anyone to see you when you’re struggling?!”

“I’m not  _ scared, _ Parker!”

Peter lowered his voice.

“We all get scared, Harley. We all want to look strong. But it’s okay to need help every once in a while."

"I don't need your help."

Harley stood up and Peter jumped up to try and stop him, but he brushed him off.

"Why do we keep going back and forth like this? Harley, seriously-"

"Dunno. Maybe it's because you don't understand the basic meaning of  _ privacy.  _ Of letting people deal with their own shit without feeling like you have to shove your nose into every single goddamn thing you see!"

“I’m sorry, okay?! I’m sorry I care so much!” Peter wrung his hands together, blinking furiously to try and keep the tears out his eyes.

“Why do you care so much?” Harley asked, more of a genuine question this time than a sarcastic comment.

“Maybe it’s because I-” Peter choked on his words, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Maybe it’s because I feel so fucking  _ guilty  _ all the time. I couldn’t even save my own uncle! I couldn’t- when I first got my powers, I was a total asshole about it. I thought that sure, it was cool and all, but I wasn’t, like,  _ hero  _ material. I didn’t bother to stop the car thief because I was so fucking  _ selfish.  _ And my uncle Ben got shot because of it. He died, right there on that sidewalk, because I was so wrapped up in myself I couldn’t even use my abilities to stop a stupid car thief! He died because of me. I killed him.”

Harley stood in front of Peter, rendered speechless by his outburst.

“I- I didn’t-”

“Of course you didn’t. You never could. You could  _ never  _ understand the fact that I feel obligated to save everyone I can to try and make up for letting my uncle die. Never! And it will never work. It won’t. The guilt won’t go away. But I don’t care. I’ll still try. If I can’t bring my uncle back, at least I can make sure no one else ends up the same way.”

“Peter-”

“Don’t bother. I know you’re gonna make up some excuse. It’s what you do.”

The words Peter had said to Harley while he was asleep weren’t forgotten. In fact, the way Harley was treating him now only made his hurt a hundred times worse because he  _ still _ felt for the other boy.

“No, Peter, I-”

“I’m leaving. Gonna go patrol for a while. Tell Tony where I am if he asks, yeah?”

It was Peter’s turn to be angry, brushing past Harley and storming out of the room. He pulled on his suit and jumped out his window, making a feeble attempt to leave all his shitty problems behind. He didn’t care about how angry Tony would be that he left. He didn’t care about the danger he might be in. The only thing in his mind was how betrayed he felt by Harley, and how pissed off he was at himself.

_ Should I have tried harder? Did I try and push myself on him too much? _

Whatever. As of right then, there was only the rush of the wind in Peter’s ears and the sounds of the city growing louder and louder as he approached the edge of Manhattan, flying through the air so fast that the building around him became a blur.

***

“Ah! Fuck!”

Harley kicked at the wall as hard as he could, which only resulted in him leaping back with a pained shout as a shot of pain went through his foot. He pulled at his hair with his hands, pacing around the room in a frenzy.

“Why did I say that? Why did I  _ say  _ that to him?!”

Harley wanted nothing more than to turn back time and have a do-over, where he  _ didn’t  _ explode on Peter. He hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, most of Harley felt grateful for the fact that he sat with him, and made sure he was okay. He  _ loved  _ that about Peter. He just hated himself for not being able to accept that he cared.

He was angry, sure. But not at Peter. He was angry at himself for being vulnerable in front of the other boy. Harley wasn’t  _ weak.  _ He wasn’t  _ scared.  _ With his life, he couldn’t afford to be. But then Peter showed up and his facade became all that much harder to keep up with. Something about Peter made him  _ want  _ to be cared for. Of course, though, Harley had to go and screw it all up.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mutttered, clenching and unclenching his fists.

_ I’m so stupid. _

_ It’s all my fault. _

_ I should’ve known. _

His mind ran back to being in that dark room, watching Peter fall to his knees, screaming, over and over again as the man in front of him fell to the ground.

_ Uncle Ben. _

For the first time, Harley really, truly realized just how little he knew about Peter. There really was a reason why everyone at the compound treated him like a feather, drifting on the wind. Any blow could set it off its course. Peter  _ was  _ that. And Harley had been the one to mess him up. Not Quentin Beck. Quentin Beck was just the catalyst, but Harley was the detonator. And Peter was the victim.

Harley fell to his knees and cried. He let the tears spill out of him for the first time in a long, long time, curling up in a ball on the floor and letting all his emotions wash over him in a wave, tearing him down bit by bit as the water crashed up against the shore. Harley had nothing, now. He had lost the one thing that had felt more real to him than anything. And it was all his fault.

_ “Harley!” _

_ “What is it, Abbs? Are you okay?” _

_ Harley was picking up his sister from school, standing next to his car, the cold, fall air biting at his nose and ears. Abby ran towards him, her eyes teary. _

_ “I’m sorry, Harley,” she said, running towards him and wrapping her little arms around his torso. _

_ “It’s okay, Abby. You don’t need to apologize. What’s wrong?” _

_ She wiped her nose, sniffling. Behind them, other kids ran into their parents’ arms, waving goodbye to their friends and their mother or father helped them in the car. For Abby, Harley  _ was  _ her parent. Their mom was never around to pick her up herself. _

_ “S-Sadie told me that the reason mom worked all the time was because she didn’t love us. And- and I told her it wasn’t true, but- but she said that, when parents work all day, it’s because they don’t want to see their kids. And that- that dad left us for that reason, too.” She looked up at Harley. “And I know I shouldn’t believe her, but- but what if she’s right?” _

_ Harley felt angry, but he didn’t show that to Abby. _

_ “You mean Sadie, your friend?” _

_ Abby nodded. _

_ “Well, obviously she isn’t a very good friend if she lies to you to try and make you feel bad.” _

_ “But- but why would she say that?” _

_ Harley sighed, bending down to meet Abby’s height. _

_ “Sometimes people say mean things to other people because they don’t feel happy with their own lives. It makes them jealous. And they take out their jealousy on other people.” _

_ “That’s not fair.” _

_ “You’re right. It’s not.” Harley stood up, taking Abby’s hand and helping her up into the front seat of his car.  _

_ “Mom loves us, though, right?” _

_ “Of course she does, kiddo. Mom loves us a ton.” _

_ “Then why does she work so much?” _

_ Harley sat down in his seat, gripping the steering wheel. _

_ “It’s hard for someone with Mom’s… education level to get a high-paying job. With Dad not around anymore, she doesn’t really have the time to go to college  _ and  _ work. She has to make enough money to support us.” _

_ “Why don’t you get a job?” _

_ “Because I need to take care of you. I get the odd job sometimes, but I’m okay focusing on you to help Mom.” _

_ “Are we poor, Harley?” _

_ Harley furrowed his eyebrows, staring out the front window. _

_ “No, I don’t think so. We aren’t rich, but we’re doing okay.” _

_ “I can get a job!” Abby said. “Then I can help, too!” _

_ Harley smiled softly. _

_ “You don’t need to get a job, Abbs. You’re doing great focusing on school. You’re a kid. You deserve to have fun with your friends and go to school every day.” _

_ “So do you. All you do is work. What about your friends?” _

_ “You know I don’t… get along well with people, Abby.” _

_ Abby shrugged. _

_ “That’s okay. You’ll find someone.” _

_ Harley turned the car on, pulling out of the parking lot. _

_ “You think so?” _

_ “I know so! You’re great, Harls! Sometimes you forget it, though. But you shouldn’t have to take care of me and Mom all the time.” _

_ “I like to.” _

_ Abby rolled her eyes. _

_ “There’s more to life than working, Harley.” _

_ “Wow, okay, smarty-pants.” _

_ Abby smiled. Harley was glad she felt better already. When someone was as young as her, it didn’t do any good to worry about responsibilities and whether or not your own parents didn’t love you. _

_ “I love you, Abby. And Mom loves you, too. You know that?” _

_ “I know. I love you, too, Harls.” _

_ Harley smiled. Even if he never found anyone else, his sister was still important to him. There weren’t many people that he loved, but the ones he did, he’d do anything to keep by his side. _

“Harley.”

He looked up from his place at the desk, where he was flipping through the pictures Peter had been looking at earlier. He looked so happy in most of them, taking selfies with his aunt, at a coffee shop with Harry and another of his friends, snapping a quick photo of Tony working in the lab. His favorite was one where Peter was hugging a group of people, maybe a math team. The picture wasn’t taken by him, and Harley could see him squished in the middle of the group, his arms wrapped around a tall, frizzy-haired girl, smiling so widely Harley could feel the pure joy coming off him. Peter looking happy made Harley feel warm inside.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s Peter?”

Harley looked up at Tony, who was standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Harley wasn’t sure how much time had passed. A few hours, maybe. He had ended up here, in Peter’s room.

“He went out. To patrol.”

“He did  _ what?! _ ”

“Please don’t get mad at him, Tony. He’s been cooped up here for two weeks. And… it was my fault.”

“You two and always blaming yourselves.” Tony shook his head, coming to sit on Peter’s bed. “At least I can track him and make sure he’s okay. I’m just-”

“Worried. I know.” Harley nodded. “It was my fault, though. I said some really mean things to him. I- I couldn’t get over my own pride, and it caused me to take out my anger at myself on him.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully, and even Harley was surprised by how easily the words slid out of his mouth to him. He didn’t have that same ease when he was talking to Peter.

“I’ve been there. I’ve definitely made some mistakes by being an arrogant asshole,” he replied, laughing. “But I’ve learned from my mistakes.” He leaned back. “I’ve gotten into huge arguments with Steve over the years because it’s still hard for me to admit when I’m wrong, or when I’m scared. But I always learn how to better myself from that, rather than keep sinking. We have a team to lead.”

Harley looked down at the picture in my hand.

“I don’t think I can make up with Peter. I’ve only been an asshole since I first met him. I assumed so much about him.” He felt a wave of frustrating swell up in his chest, another wave threatening to knock him down. “And then I tried to make up with him, but I kept screwing things up. Over and over. I’m so selfish.”

“Kid, things usually get worse before they get better.” Tony patted the spot on the bed next to him and Harley tentatively sat down beside him, holding the picture in his hand. “What’s changed your mind about Peter?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like I need him. Especially after what happened. I- I always wake up in the middle of the night, thinking I’m back there. I’m- I’m having hallucinations, too. But when I see Peter, I don’t feel like I’m in there anymore.”

“Well, you kept going back for him. You saved his life. There’s a reason for that, and it’s definitely not that you don’t like him.” Tony smirked. “Quite the opposite, I’d say.”

  
  


Harley blushed.

“Aw, Tony, it’s not like that-”

“I never said it was, but your reaction kinda confirms it.”

“It doesn’t matter anyways. He probably hates me. And I deserve it.”

“Harley, if there’s one thing Peter Parker  _ doesn’t  _ do, it’s hate people. And the kid is totally whipped for you, too!” He shook his head. “Teenagers and their obliviousness.”

“No, he isn’t.”

“Whatever you say, pal.” Tony patted Harley’s back. “You want my advice? It’s probably gonna be hard, but you’ve just gotta tell him what’s on your mind. And actually apologize. That’s the hardest part, trust me, but once you do, everything becomes so much easier. You two just need to hash it out, and  _ you, _ ” he remarked, poking Harley playfully. “Need to accept the fact that he just cares about you. And that’s okay. It’s okay to get along with people, you know. Especially people you like so much.”

“I don’t-”

“Love is a funny thing, little one,” he teased Harley. “A funny, funny thing.” He stood up, pointing at the pictures on the desk. “If you find anything good, give it to me. I want to put it up in the lab.”

“Will do.”

Tony left and Harley laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The blankets smelled like Peter; a little bit of apples and rain. He liked that smell.

He checked his phone, realizing it was already almost 4 P.M. The sun was going to set in a couple hours, and Harley wondered when Peter would come back.

He decided to call him, lifting the phone to his ear and taking a long, slow, nervous breath as it began to ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parkner angst just hits different for me wow
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you like the story so far and have a wonderful day!! <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But with you… I feel like I can talk to you about it. Because you were there, too. When everything else in the world feels like an illusion to me, I know that you're real. That you're here."

"Hey! That doesn't belong to you!"

With a  _ thwip _ of his web shooters Peter blinded the man carrying the purse, knocking him backwards into the wall. He swung at Peter, trying to hit him, but he dodged easily, effortlessly moving in and out as he webbed the thief to the wall. It was too easy. He'd done it too many times before.

"Next time, maybe don't be so bad at stealing stuff, eh?"

The man cursed at Peter as he tore the purse out his hands and walked away, dropping it in the hands of the woman standing at the edge of the alley, fearful and tense.

"Have a nice day, ma'am," he said before shooting a web and lifting himself to the top of a building, perching on the edge of the roof and scanning the city below him.

"Incoming call from Harley Keener."

"Decline."

Harley's icon disappeared from Peter's display and he laid down, one leg dangling off the edge of the roof.

"Incoming call from Harley Keener."

"Decline! Jesus."

He pulled off his mask and breathed out deeply, closing his eyes. The sun was setting, casting shadows on the ground, and a light breeze tousled Peter's hair as he folded his hands behind his head, staring up at the empty sky.

A moment later, his phone began to vibrate against his leg.

"I swear-"

He fell silent when he realized it wasn't Harley.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Hey, kid. Having fun on patrol?"

"I'm sorry, I know you told me I couldn't, but-"

"Hey, I get it. You needed air. Sorry for keeping you cooped up in there."

Peter sighed, relieved Tony wasn't mad at him.

"It's fine."

"Just try and come back soon, okay? I never saw you eat breakfast."

As if on cue, Peter's stomach growled loudly, and he remembered he hadn't eaten in a while. It had been harder for him to keep track lately with everything else going on. And he never had an appetite.

"Yeah, I will, Mr. Stark."

"Hey, bud… you can talk to me, okay?"

Peter smiled slightly, the corners of his lips turning up as he laid back against the hard roof.

"Thanks."

"Yeah."

When Tony had hung up Peter flipped through his phone, keeping his free hand behind his head. The sun had completely set now, the lights of the city becoming the sole illumination of the area. It was cold, but Peter wasn't ready to go back to the compound yet. He swung his leg back and forth as his thumb flicked across the phone screen, placing tetris blocks into their spots in a blur.

Finally, he decided it was best that he pulled his mask back on and headed back.

"One new voice message."

"From who?"

"Harley Keener."

"Of course." Peter groaned. He didn't  _ want  _ to think about Harley right now. Every time he did, he only felt more miserable. It seemed like Peter just couldn't stop saying the wrong things. Whenever they were finally beginning to get along, something happened that made Harley become angry and defensive. Peter didn't know what to do anymore, especially because he felt like he'd keep going back, no matter how pissed Harley got at him. "Just play it, Karen."

His icon popped up on Peter's display.

"Hey, Peter. I know you're angry, or disappointed, or probably both. You… have every right to be. God, I fucked up. But please, please don't think any of this was your fault."

Peter closed his eyes.

"There's a lot I wanna say to you, and some of it would probably be better said face to face, but I don't expect you to want to talk to me. That's okay. It's just that… all this time, even since the minute we met, all I've done is be a complete asshole to you. That's all on me. All of it. And I've never said this before because I was too much of a prideful jerk to, but… I'm sorry. I'm really,  _ really  _ sorry."

Peter's leg stopped swinging as he focused all his attention on what Harley was saying.

"Maybe I was jealous. No, I definitely was. I assumed so much about you that I shouldn't've. I thought you weren't anything like me. I thought we were polar opposites but… we're actually really similar. And it scared me because I've never really really gotten close with anyone before. Especially not anyone like you, who genuinely cares about everyone. I was so freaked that if I accepted your help and showed you who I really was, you'd only pity me. And it fucked with my head and that's no excuse, and I'm so sorry you got in the middle of that." Harley's voice faded for a moment. "Anyways, you're probably busy or doing your own thing right now, so I'll go. I just wanted to say that. And, if you ever want to talk, I'd like that. A lot. I'm sorry."

_ I'm sorry.  _ Peter had heard the words many, many times before, usually out of his own mouth. Harley had never said them to him, but Peter had said them to Harley on a few different occasions. He had even said them to Harry, who had still left his side anyways. 

Checking the time, he realized it was almost nine. He was hungry, but now he was also anxious. His feet carried him across the building and he jumped, swinging from side to side on his webs until he descended and landed on top of the compound. Pulling off his mask, he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could see the figure sitting in front of him.

"Hey," Harley said softly.

"Hey."

Peter stood awkwardly in front of the other boy, not dismissing how his eyes were red-rimmed and there was a slight glistening of tear trails on his cheeks.

"I have to… talk to you." Harley cleared his throat. "About a lot."

"I have to talk to you, too," Peter said, sitting down across from him. The night was quieter here than in the middle of the city, and Peter could hear cicadas chirping in the woods behind the compound. "You go first."

Harley nodded.

"Okay. Well, uh… my sister always used to tell me I needed to find friends. Someone to be with, or fall in love with, even. She was so pushy about telling me that it was okay to show myself. Of course, I never really believed her. I never got along with any of the people at my school. I went to school, then picked up Abby, studied, made dinner, and went to bed, even though I was always still awake when my mom came home at three each morning, smelling like bacon grease and ready to pass out. I felt like my family was the only thing that was important. And when I met Tony… well, Tony was the first person outside of my family I ever felt comfortable around. I never really knew my dad. But Tony? He felt like what a dad should feel like, I guess. I don't really know how to explain it."

Peter listened as Harley told his story, his eyes cast in shadow, his hands gripping his mask tightly.

"You can probably tell I don't have much experience in the social department. Growing up, I either had to be strong or fall apart because of everyone else. I had to take care of my sister and my mom. And when Tony invited me here, I didn't want to come, to be honest. My family had to spend two weeks convincing me to do it. But… I'm glad I did. If I hadn't, I might never have met you."

"I thought you didn't like me."

Harley exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.

"I didn't. But it was my fault. I looked at you when I came into the lab that first day, with your perfect hair and perfect face and happy smile, and I saw someone who was handed everything in life. I saw someone who had reasons to be happy, and I was jealous of that. I hated it. I hated myself for not having those reasons, and I took it out on you. That's the simplest way to put it, I think."

"And now?"

"You… you fucked me up, Peter. And not in a bad way. When we were kidnapped and I saw the things you… went through, I realized that maybe I had been wrong. Maybe the real reason everyone here treated you like you were fragile was because you really were. And I still don't know that much about you. All I know is that I  _ liked  _ it when you cared about me. I really liked it. And I really liked you. Fuck, I liked you so much I wanted to show everything to you. But I was so, so scared. You told me it was okay to be scared, and I wanted to believe you, but I didn't. But I  _ am  _ scared, Peter. I'm just sorry that my fear turned into anger and selfishness, and I hurt you because of it." He sniffed. "But, God, I can't  _ sleep  _ at night because of what happened. I can't eat, and nothing feels real to me anymore. I always feel like I'm stuck between reality and that horrible place. That's why I have hallucinations. But you… you make things feel more real, for some reason. I- I don't know why. You just do."

Peter gazed at Harley's blue eyes, thinking.

"There. I said it. I've been trying to say it for a while, and now I've said it. You can be mad at me. I deserve it. But you're still gonna be the first person I've ever trusted this much. More than Tony. More than anyone."

There was silence for a while, as Peter moved his gaze to the stars above him, watching as they twinkled in and out slowly. He felt Harley's eyes on him, waiting for him to say something.

"It still hurts me, too," he finally murmured. "What happened. There were things that… I pushed to the back of my mind for so long, and he just…" he paused looking down and taking a long, shaky breath as his vision grew blurry with tears. "He brought them all back." He looked up at Harley. "When we were escaping, and that building was about to fall down on me, all I could think was "not again". But also, I thought that, if I did die right there, saving you, maybe… maybe that wouldn't be so bad. But you pulled me out, even though you knew he might've found you. You carried me for miles to try and save both of us, when you could've just left me there to die. That wasn't me, Harley. That was  _ you,  _ telling me you cared."

"I was such a jerk, Peter-"

Peter shook his head.

"I try not to dwell on what good, hurting people have done wrong. I already do that to myself too much. And… I never really hated you. Yeah, I thought you were a dick, but I've always had a little bit of an… attachment to you. I get attached to people easily. I guess we aren't very similar in that aspect."

"You're right with that one."

"Can I… take you somewhere?"

"What?"

"I- I want to show you something."

Hesitantly, Harley nodded. Peter pulled his mask on and held out his hand.

"Hold on to me, okay?"

Harley took Peter's hand and he wrapped it over his shoulder, signaling for Harley to hold him tight. Peter jumped, and he knew Harley was doing his best not to scream. The wind rushing through his ears, he webbed them down the streets of apartment buildings, holding onto Harley at the same time. Eventually, they landed, a little roughly, on top of a building.

"Let's never do that again, " Harley muttered, bending over as if he was going to throw up. Peter walked to the edge of the roof, pulling off his mask. "Where are we?"

"My favorite place in the whole city." Peter walked to the edge of the roof, sitting down and swinging his legs over so they were dangling off the edge of the building. Harley crept forward, hesitant because of how high up they were. "Don't worry. If you fall, I'll catch you."

"Oh, yeah, because  _ that's  _ reassuring."

Harley say down a few inches behind Peter, looking out.

"Wow."

They could see the Brooklyn Bridge crossing the river, cars driving across it flashing their headlights and glowing as they sped away. On both sides for the bridge, the glowing lights of the city reflected across the water, showing the boats meandering across and the moon in the sky above them. It was quiet where they were, the bustling noise of the city seeming miles away.

"I come here to think. Helps me feel better. Helps remind me what I'm here for."

"Why are you showing me this? It seems personal."

Peter shrugged.

"You apologized. I guess I just want to say that… I forgive you. And that maybe we should start over."

"Start over? I-"

"Listen, Harley. I know you aren't the best at opening up to people. That's okay. Neither am I. Yeah, you hurt my feelings. Yeah, you were an asshole for a while."

"Hey-"

"But it isn't gonna change the way that i feel that I feel about you." Peter sighed, staring out at the water. "I've got a shit ton of problems. Having to relive some of them didn't help."

"I'll say."

"But with you… I feel like I can talk to you about it. Because you were there, too. When everything else in the world feels like an illusion to me, I  _ know  _ that you're real. That you're here."

"I… you make me feel like that, too," Harley admitted. "I don't think it's just because we were in there together, too." He closed his eyes. "I want to be better, Peter. I'd like to start over with you, but I don't think we can. Not with everything that's… happened."

Peter looked down at his hands, wondering if Harley was saying what he thought he was saying.

_ Please don't let me go. _

"It's okay if you're still not ready to talk to me about that stuff," he mumbled.

"I just don't… Well, I'm scared."

"That's okay."

"So you've said." Harley shook his head. "There's a lot we don't know about each other."

"That can be changed." Peter stretched his mask between his fingers, rolling it over in his hands as he kicked his legs in and out. In the distance, he heard a boat horn. Harley didn't speak for a while, looking out at the bridge with a focused expression on his face. Peter stood up.

"Sorry. I overstepped again. That's just me being me, I guess. I'll take you home."

"What? That's not what I-"

"It doesn't matter."

"No, Peter, wait, listen to me-"

"Listen to you say what, Harley?"

"I- I don't know. I'm still trying to find the words. I've never done this before." He bit down on his fingernail, avoiding Peter's gaze. "I've never been through anything like what Beck did to us before. And I've never… had someone see those parts of me before, either. Ever."

"It's hard. To show yourself to people." Peter kicked at the ground, suddenly filled with bitterness. "It can kick you in the ass if you aren't careful."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Gonna kick me in the ass?"

That drew a small smile on Peter's face.

"I couldn't if I tried."

"Good." Harley looked around, desperate to put his eyes anywhere but on Peter. "Let's just go home."

Peter's smile faded as he realized Harley wasn't going to open up to him any further. It's probably what he should've expected. He'd heard more from Harley tonight than he had ever thought possible.

When they had landed back on the compound and Peter had let Harley adjust for a moment, he turned to walk inside.

"Hey, Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to, um, maybe hang out with me?" Harley stuttered. "I just… I know neither of us are probably going to be doing much sleeping."

"Oh… um… yeah, sure."

Harley smiled and Peter felt a sense of relief lift off his shoulders as he followed Harley into the building.

***

Harley hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he, well, woke up. He was laying in Peter's bed, with Peter's blanket over him. Rubbing the grogginess from his eyes, everything he had said last night came rushing back.

He had never thought he would've been able to say all those things to Peter. He had practiced it over and over again, worrying that he was going to slip up and only cause more conflict. But then Peter came back and they were together… and Harley  _ wanted  _ to apologize. He wanted to because he wanted to stay close to Peter. More than he was willing to admit. The truth was, when he was by Peter, Harley felt  _ safe. _ He felt wanted, too.

So he had asked Peter to hang out with him and, even though he didn't expect it, Peter had agreed. They stayed in his room, making soft conversation or just staring up at the ceiling. It felt good to have someone by his side. It felt good to have  _ Peter  _ by his side.

When he turned his head, he saw Peter coming out of the bathroom, still wearing a ratty graphic tee-shirt with Yoda's face stretched across it and a pair of black sweatpants.

There was something else Harley liked, and that was seeing Peter in his suit last night. But now, with his messy hair and tired eyes, he still looked great. Part of Harley wished he could take a picture, and add it to Peter's collection.

"Sleep okay?" Peter asked him, reaching into his drawer for fresh clothes.

"Yeah… what time did I pass out?"

"I don't know. Maybe around two."

Looking over at the clock display on Peter's nightstand, Harley realized it was almost nine. Suddenly, a thought came to his head.

"Did you- er- I'm sorry for taking up the bed."

_ Or was he sleeping  _ with  _ me?! _

Then again, that wasn't such a bad thought to have. He was almost disappointed when Peter shook his head.

"Nah, I stayed up to do some catch-up stuff for school."

"Does it have to do with those pictures?"

Harley gestured to the photos on the table, which were scattered in piles. Peter shrugged.

"Not really. I do take pictures for the yearbook, but those are just… personal things. Memories."

"Like what?"

When Peter shifted on his feet and looked down, Harley backtracked.

"You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's fine, I'm just… I don't know, I guess no one's ever been very interested in my personal stuff. Well, Harry, but he…" Peter trailed off a moment, his eyes stormy, before shaking his head. "Whatever."

He picked up a few of the pictures and set them down on the bed. Harley sat up, pulling off the blanket to look.

"This was when I first came to the lab to work with Tony," Peter began, pointing at a selfie he took with a disgruntled looking Tony behind him. "This is me and Harry when my Aunt May took us to the summer carnival." Another image, this one of Peter standing with his arm wrapped around the dark-haired boy, a Ferris wheel behind them, outlined in a clear, blue sky.

"What's that one?" Harley asked, pointing to the picture he had taken a liking to earlier. Peter smiled.

"Me and my decathlon team after we won our first national competition. That's MJ," he said softly, pointing to the tall girl he was hugging. "And Liz, and Ned, and Harry, and Flash."

"Is MJ your…" Harley trailed off, suddenly nervous.

"No. I'm not- uh- I don't like her like that. I don't like, um,  _ girls  _ like that."

"Oh."

Harley found himself blushing slightly. He had never been one to engage in conversation about love and sexuality, and he tried not to think about it. Except it was hard when Peter was around.

"She's a close friend of mine, though. Along with Ned and… and Harry."

His voice saddened at the mention of his friends and Harley leaned in closer.

"What happened with you and Harry? Tony told me you had an argument," he added, when Peter seemed to draw further into his shell.

"He said something that I wasn't expecting, I guess. It was mostly my fault. I- I ditched him because I wanted to look for you and he told me I needed to stop playing the hero."

"That doesn't sound like it was your fault. Sounds like he was being a dick."

Peter shrugged.

"I kept secrets from Harry for a long time. I still have things I haven't told him. Or anyone. It's not his fault."

Harley laid back against the headboard, watching Peter reorganize the pictures again and again, fidgeting with the corners as he tried to keep his hands busy.

"You look tired, Peter," he murmured, and the other boy gave another apathetic shrug.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Peter finally met Harley's gaze, his wide, brown eyes filled with exhaustion that he was obviously trying to hide.

"I just can't sleep," he mumbled.

"Well, I was able to sleep when you were here. Maybe it could work for you, too."

Peter shook his head, his voice going quiet.

"I can't sleep. I can't- I can't handle the things I'll see if I do."

"Then let me help you. I- I know I haven't given you much reason to trust me, but-"

"I trust you, Harley."

When Harley met Peter's eyes, he knew the other boy meant that statement with every ounce of his heart.

“Why? You shouldn’t.”

“Well, aside from the fact that you saved my life-”

“You saved mine first-”

“You just feel… right. You feel like someone trustworthy. And if Mr. Stark likes you, you must be, because he doesn’t like very many people.”

Peter was rationalizing it for Harley, making the statement seem like nothing more than a logical assumption. But there was an unspoken, nervous tension in the air that made Harley think Peter wasn’t saying everything he wanted to.

Or maybe he was just overcompensating.

“Well, um… th-thanks, I guess.”

Peter smirked.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Shut up.”

Peter laid down beside Harley, resting his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He looked like he could fall asleep in seconds, but they both knew it was harder than it looked to get any sleep at all. Looking at Peter, Harley realized he had a long, fresh scratch mark going up his arm, bright red.

“You get that on patrol?”

Peter shrugged, looking at it.

“Yeah. It happens.”

Harley hesitantly laid down next to Peter, so close their shoulders were brushing against each other. When Peter didn’t move away, Harley relaxed a little.

“Y’know, Harley, maybe we could work this out,” Peter said, yawning. Harley smiled.

“You think so, webs?”

“Yeah. I do, farmboy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are getting close to the end omgggg only a couple chapters left :(((
> 
> Thank u for reading!! <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I thought I’d finally pushed it away completely, but then Beck- and I couldn’t- and it all came back and now I’m scared again and I feel so… so... disgusting, keeping it a secret from everyone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TW: Peter briefly mentions past sexual assualt, nongraphic

Harley dozed off again. He told himself not to, but it was hard when he was only running on a few hours of sleep for the past week and Peter’s body was so warm and comforting next to him. When he lifted his head again, Tony was standing over them and Peter was breathing into Harley’s neck, his gasps for air speeding up as his facial expression changed from relaxed to fearful and strained.

“Kid, c’mon. We gotta wake him up.”

“What the hell?”

Harley sat up, too concerned about Peter to fully register the fact they had somehow ended up tangled together, the blanket discarded at the edge of the bed. Peter was sweating, his mouth murmuring something Harley didn’t understand. As he sat up, Tony bent over Peter, shaking him gently.

“Peter. Pete, come on, wake up.”

The boy only continued to writhe around, reaching out his arm to grab nothing but air. Tony held his hand against the bed.

“We can’t let him move around too much. He gave himself a black eye because of this once.”

Harley nodded, moving to push down Peter’s legs as he continued to thrash, his murmurs turning into pained cries.

“No! No, don’t! I- I don’t want it!”

Harley could only stare as Tony continued to shake Peter, who was struggling in his grip. 

“Peter!” Tony said more loudly this time, pinching his arm. Peter still didn’t wake up.

“Let go of me!” He exclaimed, throwing out his arm and hitting Tony squarely in the stomach, He gasped from the impact, but didn’t stop holding Peter down.

“Tony, stop. I- just let me try.” Harley took Peter’s hand. “My sister has night terrors sometimes.”

Tony reluctantly obliged, letting Harley run his fingers through Peter’s hair.

“It’s okay, Peter,” he murmured. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Peter continued to tremble, whimpering, but his cries died down. Tony stood in front of them, his hand rubbing the stubble around his mouth in worry. Harley prayed Peter would wake up soon, keeping his fingers rhythmically moving through the other boy’s brown curls. It seemed like an eternity, but it was only a couple minutes before Peter had calmed down, falling still as his breathing began to even out and he stopped shaking. Soon, the tear trails running down his face were the only reminder of his episode. Tony let out a breath.

“Thank you, Harley.”

“Yeah… Yeah, no problem.” Harley didn’t move his hand off Peter’s hair, not even when Tony sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I’ve never really been good about helping him when he has nightmares.”

“Does it happen a lot?”

“Only sometimes. And usually, it’s not this bad.” He shook his head. “I got an alert from FRIDAY that his heart rate was increasing way too high, so I came as fast as I could.”

In the dim light of the room, Harley could see Peter’s sleeping face. Gently, he brushed a curl from his eye. Tony smiled softly.

“So, you two are getting along now, then?” Tony gestured to the bed. “Sure seemed like you were having quite a nice night.”

Harley was grateful the room wasn’t lit completely, because Tony would’ve seen the way his cheeks glowed pink.

“We were just… tired,” he said. “We, uh, we must’ve slept for a while, if it’s already dark.”

“Yeah, you did. I didn’t want to wake you. You both needed the rest.”

“Do you… do you think he’ll be okay?”

Tony sighed.

“It seems to me like you’re the only one who can help make sure he is.”

“Tony-”

“Don’t get all stubborn on me, kid,” Tony chided teasingly. “I know you care about him more than you let him think.”

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to Peter’s slow breathing. Soon, Tony stood up.

“Let me know when he wakes up, okay?”

“You got it.”

Tony left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Harley to pull Peter further up the bed so his head could rest more comfortably on the pillow. He considered leaving, but most of him wanted to stay and make sure Peter didn’t fall back into his nightmare.

He didn’t have to wait long before he woke up, gasping and spluttering for air as if he had just been drowning.

“Hey, woah. It’s okay.”

Peter looked around wildly before his eyes met Harley’s, his hands gripping the sheets below him so hard his knuckles were turning white.

“Harley-” he started, shaking his head. He looked anxious, so Harley scooted closer to him.

“Look, it’s okay. You’re here, remember?”

Peter looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fingers in an effort to bring himself back to reality. Harley watched nervously, waiting.

“Peter.”

“Yeah, I’m- I-”

“It’s okay.”

“No, I’m- I’m fine. I’m good.”

It was very obvious to Harley that Peter was  _ not,  _ in fact, good.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Peter leaned back against the headboard, inhaling and exhaling deeply, staring at the wall in front of them. Harley reached out to touch his shoulder but drew away quickly when Peter flinsched, leaning away from him.

“I- sorry. Sorry.”

Peter shook his head.

“No, that- it’s fine. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“We sure do repeat things to each other, huh?”

Harley chuckled slightly, tilting his head back to look up at Peter’s face.

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

Peter spent another minute regaining control over his breath, his muscles still tensed as if he was ready to spring at any sign of danger. There was a heavy silence as Harley grasped to determine what Peter was feeling.

“I just… had a nightmare.”

“I know.” Harley crossed his legs together, moving backwards so he was sitting directly opposite to Peter. “Tony and I tried to help.”

“I could, um… I could hear you, I think.” Peter said it like he was embarrassed, the tips of his ears going pink.

“You could?”

“Yeah. I was… um… I don’t- I don’t know how to say it. I’m not-” Peter stuttered, biting down on his lower lip. “Sorry you had to see me like that. I- I try not to… well… what was I doing?”

“You were just yelling something. Saying no and- and trying not to let us touch you.”

“Oh.”

“Does it-” Harley began, taking a deep breath before continuing. He had no idea where asking this question would lead them. “Does it have anything to do with that illusion? The one where you were- um- telling someone to stop- I- on second thought, you don’t have to answer that.”

Peter looked away, obscuring his face from Harley and bringing his knees into his chest.

“No, I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“You told me everything about yourself,” Peter mumbled. “It’s only fair.”

“That’s not how this works.”

Peter shrugged his shoulders up and down, still keeping his face turned away from Harley.

“It’s hard to keep it in,” he whispered, so quietly Harley had to strain to hear him. “I’ve never told anyone and it- it’s like this weight pressing down on me.”

“Hey. Peter.” Harley moved closer to him slowly. “I know what that feels like. And you don’t have to carry it all by yourself, if you don’t want to. I’m not going to judge you either way.”

It was funny to Harley how, just a couple weeks earlier, he never would’ve dreamt of saying something like that to Peter. Now, he couldn’t imagine going through this without him. With the way Peter was acting, all Harley wanted was to hug him, but his instincts told him that wasn’t a good idea.

“There are a lot of reasons why I do what I do,” the other boy murmured. “It’s not just because of my Uncle Ben. It’s also because I know what it’s like to feel helpless. To feel like there’s no one who will come save me from being hurt.” He took a long, shaky breath, staring down at his knees, his face suddenly stony and expressionless. “Because I- when I was a kid, there was someone who…” Pausing, Peter tilted his head back, closing his eyes. “Who did things to me. Bad things.”

Harley felt his heart drop into his stomach at Peter’s words.

“And I never did anything about it because… well, I guess because I was scared I was the one to blame for it. I- I never told anyone because I felt so  _ terrible  _ inside. It was eating me up for years. So I focused on trying to help people get out of the situation I had to be in, because I know how much it sucks, to be all alone carrying that shit on your back. I used my abilities as a way to block it out of my mind. And I thought I’d finally pushed it away completely, but then Beck- and I couldn’t- and it all came back and now I’m scared again and I feel so… so...  _ disgusting,  _ keeping it a secret from everyone.”

It was Harley’s turn to avoid Peter’s eyes. He felt nauseous hearing that, the image of a small, innocent Peter being hurt like that feeling like a knife twisting into his gut. It wasn’t fair, and Harley had treated him like complete shit-

_ This isn’t about you, Harley,  _ he told himself. He wasn’t sure what to do. How do you react to something like that? What are you supposed to say? Peter had his arms wrapped around his knees and was sitting in a nervous, defensive position, his eyes low.

“I, um… god. God, Peter,” he began. His lips felt clammy and numb, unable to speak properly. “That’s such a shitty thing to go through. You didn’t deserve that.”

Peter stayed quiet.

“I- I don’t really know exactly what you’re feeling, but… I know how it feels to think you’re alone. To think you have to hate yourself because of something that happened that you couldn’t control. For me, it was my dad leaving.” Harley took a shaky breath. “I don’t wanna make it seem like I’m trying to make it about me, I just want you to know that… I don’t judge you for it.”

_ I don’t judge you for it, Peter Parker. I’m not the same person I was. I’m not the same asshole I was. _

“Makes me feel so lonely,” Peter mumbled, his voice laced with a raw sadness Harley wished he didn’t have to hear. “And I’m so tired, Harley.”

Harley felt like he was ripping apart at the seams trying to figure out how to navigate the situation without screwing things up for the both of them. He was never the best at empathizing with people. Sure, with Peter it was easier, but this was… a whole new field for him.

“I know you’re tired. I know you’re hurting. I- I want to help you. Can I help you?”

There it was.  _ Can I help you? Can I be the one to hold you when you’re feeling like this? _

Harley had never had anyone he wanted to help. Not besides his family. When he leaned into Peter and touched his cheek slowly, carefully, and Peter didn’t flinch away, Harley took the chance to say it.

“I’ve never done this before, Peter. I’m not- usually like this, but… I want to help you so bad. I want to help you feel better. Lighter.”

“You do?”

“I don’t know why. Maybe- maybe it’s because I feel like you understand me. I feel like you’re the one person in the world who really,  _ really  _ understands me. And you’ve tried to help me, even though I never showed any gratitude for it. Nobody’s ever- gone out of their way to help me like that. It’s so strange, I guess, and I reacted to it the wrong way but I want to help  _ you  _ now, because you  _ do  _ deserve it.”

“I’m just gonna drag you down,” Peter answered miserably. “Like I do to everyone else in my life. Like my Uncle Ben. Like Harry.”

There was nothing Harley wanted more right now than to see Peter’s face light up again, like in that picture with his decathlon team. 

“You won’t drag me anywhere, webhead,” he joked slightly, letting his hand rest on Peter’s shoulder. “I’m at rock bottom already. The only way I can go is up. And I’m bringing you up with me, whether you like it or not.”

Peter lifted his head, and Harley felt a sense of relief wash over him when he could see Peter’s large, brown eyes gazing up at him, searching his expression for genuinity.

“Since when did you get so cheesy and sentimental?” he replied and, though his voice was more deadpanned than Harley’s, he knew there was a hint of joking sarcasm behind his words.

“Dunno. It’s totally gross, right?”

“Definitely.”

Harley laughed, looking down at his hands.

“You know, I’ve never really had friends before, let alone anything more than that. I’ve always just attached myself to my sister.”

“Must’ve been pretty embarrassing for her.”

“Hey! I am  _ not  _ embarrassing.”

“Whatever you say.”

Peter’s lips turned up with the shadow of a smile.

“Thanks for listening to me, Harley.”

“Thanks for telling me that. I know it’s hard to feel like you have no one to go to. But that’s definitely not true. Especially for you,” he added, shaking his head. “You’ve got a whole building full of people waiting to tie your shoes or make you breakfast.”

“I know how to tie my own shoes,” Peter retorted. Harley let the moment sink into his skin. The last time he had remarked on Peter’s relationship with everyone in the compound, it had been with bitterness and remorse. Now, it was the opposite. He didn’t know what time it was, and he didn’t care. Nor did he care about the fact that he’d been wearing the same clothes two days in a row, or that both his hands had come to rest on either side of Peter’s face as they sat on the bed in the soft, yellow light of the room, Peter leaning with his back to the headboard and Harley moving ever closer to him. If nothing else was real, Harley could feel Peter, which meant that he  _ was,  _ and therefore nothing else mattered.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Harley hummed.

Peter unfolded his legs so they came to rest on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t know.”

“Wow, you’re really great at explaining things, you know that?”

“It’s one of my many talents.”

“You have a nice face,” Harley replied, shrugging. “Am I not allowed to look at it?”

“You have a nice face, too, weirdo.” Peter answered, and both boys blushed. A semi-awkward silence fell between them and Peter’s eyes no longer looked so tired and anxious. He looked more relaxed, his face only inches from Harley’s.

“I have such a weird feeling,” Peter mumbled.

“Me, too. How much you wanna bet we’re feeling the same thing?”

“It’s unlikely.”

Harley smiled softly, brushing one of Peter’s unruly curls behind his ears.

“How about you kiss me and we’ll see just how unlikely it is?”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly, and, for a split second, Harley froze up, scared he had said something totally wrong and Peter was going to punch him in the face or jump away from him or-

Then he felt his lips on his, and all that nerve-wracking fear went away as the world suddenly came to a stop to let him focus one thing and one thing only: Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter but wow that felt good to write
> 
> There's just one chapter left!! That's so insane!!
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


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